


are you the golden snitch? because you're the finest catch here

by angelic_angel



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Anxiety, Attempt at Humor, Crack, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Head Boy Lee Taeyong, Hogsmeade Dates, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multiple Relationships, Mutual Pining, POV Multiple, Quidditch Rivals, Romance, Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23805952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelic_angel/pseuds/angelic_angel
Summary: “Well you could always - I don’t know - ask him out?” Renjun sighed exasperatedly, growing tired of his friend’s pining.“No!” Donghyuck gasped, clutching his proverbial pearls. “What if he doesn’t like me back? I can’t embarrass myself like that.”“Donghyuck, you were once caught reading pirate erotica in Charms. While crying. I don’t think anything could be more embarrassing than that.”***Jaemin’s fear of animals isn’t his only problem in Care of Magical Creatures. (Lee Jeno is his biggest problem yet.)Donghyuck and Mark are each other’s biggest rivals. (Donghyuck would like them to be each other’s boyfriends.)Johnny and Ten keep getting mistaken for a couple. (Johnny starts to realise why.)Jungwoo and Yukhei keep disappearing together. (It’s not for the reason everyone thinks.)Doyoung struggles to not hex Jaehyun. (Jaehyun doesn’t think he would mind.)Jisung struggles to not hex himself.Head Boy Taeyong has had enough.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 88
Kudos: 462





	1. something old, something new

Taeyong sat at the back of the library, up to his eyeballs in homework in both the metaphorical and literal sense. His vision had gone all blurry, and his head pounded after several hours of constant reading, but it seemed that his brain wasn’t actually retaining anything. It was like the opposite of a sponge. An egnops? 

With a tired sigh, Taeyong pulled his textbook closer and attempted to reread the same paragraph he’d been focusing on for the past fifteen minutes, only to be disturbed moments later by a loud rustling sound, like someone furiously flicking through a book, followed by muted yells. Deciding this was the perfect opportunity to perform his role as Head Boy (read: procrastinate), Taeyong slipped his glasses off his face and slid out of his seat before heading in the direction of the disruptive noises.

Merlin, he was never going to get any work done with all this racket. He had been doing so well until now, too. 

Under the pretence of searching for a book, Taeyong moved further and further towards the muffled shouts until they became a lot less muffled, nearer the front of the library. He slowly peeked his head around the edge of a bookcase, only to be confronted with a rather bizarre image: fifth year Slytherin, Donghyuck Lee, was balanced precariously atop one of the ladders usually reserved for reaching books from the uppermost shelves. (While the books were charmed to float independently, they couldn’t always be trusted to move when you wanted them to). Instead of looking through the shelves of books, however, the younger boy seemed to be scouring the top of the bookcase whilst hissing something in a loud whisper. Taeyong strained his ears in an attempt to catch what Donghyuck was saying and after a few moments he was sure he heard him shouting something which sounded awfully like _Neapolitan_. At this, Taeyong’s brow furrowed. How strange. Wasn’t that a flavour of ice-cream? Had Donghyuck misplaced ice-cream somewhere in the library? Having known him since he had first started at Hogwarts, Taeyong would not put it past Donghyuck nor his friends to do something so seemingly preposterous.

Suddenly, one such friend appeared out of nowhere, only to scold Donghyuck for standing on the ladder without supervision. Instead of climbing down like Taeyong had expected he would, Donghyuck remained on the ladder. Renjun Huang supported him from the bottom, clutching the side rail in a white-knuckled grip, and all the while, Donghyuck continued to call out for his missing ice cream. Having lived at Hogwarts for seven years now, this was hardly the strangest thing Taeyong had seen, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still completely and utterly perplexed by the antics of his juniors.

Just as he was about to enter the aisle, a hand clamped down on Taeyong’s shoulder, startling him and causing him to let out a (very manly, not at all squeaky) yelp. Of course, he should have known. Jaemin Na stood in front of him looking uncharacteristically panicked, his eyes flickering from the bookcase to Taeyong to another bookcase rather frantically.

“Have you seen Napoleon?” the younger boy asked desperately, Taeyong’s shoulder still in his grip, who was growing increasingly baffled by the strange behaviour of the fifth years.

“Who?”

“You know, Napoleon! He’s small, jumps around, makes weird noises, slimy,” Jaemin rhymed off, clearly describing some poor, unfortunate, slimy soul. 

Ah, so not ice cream. Merlin, Taeyong thought, poor bastard. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have your friends describe you as _slimy_.

“Sorry, no idea who you’re talking about,” Taeyong replied sympathetically, genuinely sorry that he had no idea who this strange child was. He mentally reminded himself to ask Doyoung if he knew anything about Napoleon. Thinking about it, something about the name seemed vaguely familiar, but Taeyong still felt incredibly clueless. He was surprised he had never met Napoleon considering how he seemed to be such good friends with Jaemin. As Head Boy, he felt as though it was his duty to know every student, to be a leader and a friend to them all. Almost four months in, and he’d thought he knew them all, but apparently not.

Jaemin deflated at his answer, disappointed and visibly distressed, and without so much as a goodbye he fled the scene. Behind Taeyong, Donghyuck and Renjun had begun flicking through books rapidly, shaking out the pages every so often. He felt himself flinch when Donghyuck proceeded to chuck piles of books on the floor. That one had looked like a first edition.

From behind him, rapid footsteps sounded, a sign that someone was running. Thankfully this was enough warning for Taeyong to prepare himself for another sneak attack. Jisung Park, a gangly fourth year and Jaemin’s cousin, was sprinting down the middle of the library, looking just as flustered as everyone else. Was this Napoleon guy really so special that he had the entire school looking for him?

Jisung skidded to a halt mere inches away from Taeyong and, without even glancing at the Head Boy, flew towards Donghyuck and Renjun who had amassed quite the collection of books. Taeyong mourned the loss of the ones that looked a little less than salvageable.

“I can’t find him anywhere,” Jisung whined, towering over the older boys with his lanky limbs. “I even checked inside Chenle’s socks! Please don’t make me do that again. I _saw things_ in there, nightmarish things. I’m traumatised, I tell you.”

With that, Taeyong concluded he had heard enough. At this rate, the whole castle would be looking for Napoleon by lunch; surely he would be found soon enough. Deciding it was no longer any of his business, the Head Boy made his way back to his study materials, but not before a wild Ten ran past him yelling something about Johnny’s underwear.

Yeah… Taeyong definitely did not want to know.

**_three months earlier_ **

You see, the thing was, as much as Jaemin flirted and teased and flirted some more, he had never actually dated anyone. Everyone just seemed to assume that because he was so confident and coy, he was well experienced in the field of romance. In reality, these people couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, Jaemin had never so much as kissed someone. Well, he kissed his friends all the time, but those were just friendly smooches on the cheek or a comforting peck on the forehead. As much as he loved his friends, he would rather throw himself out of the Hogwarts Express and into the hungry mouth of a Hungarian Horntail than kiss any of them. Specifically, Donghyuck. Jaemin’s reputation as a serial flirt had become the bane of his existence. The assumption that he had been in countless relationships was proving stressful, especially now that… _well_.

Surely even Jeno Lee had heard the rumours about Jaemin’s escapades, however fictitious they may be. He probably thought Jaemin asked out all of his potential suitors while flying on a hippogriff charmed pink, holding a bouquet of singing roses, or something to that effect. That was the reason for, and the ultimate cause of, Jaemin’s stress. No, not the pink hippogriff thing (although that could prove difficult to live up to, even if it never actually happened). No. The real issue here was Jeno Lee. Sweet, handsome, endearingly oblivious Jeno Lee.

It all started at the beginning of his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Jaemin had been dreading returning to school all summer for one reason and one reason only: Care of Magical Creatures. By the end of his fourth year, Jaemin had exhausted all elective subjects, somehow managing to fail every single one of them. Spectacularly. From smashing an entire supply of crystal balls in Divination, to accidentally mistranslating a passage into something rather lewd in Ancient Runes, to falling asleep in every Muggle Studies class; Jaemin had managed to blacklist himself around the castle. Even the teachers in his core subjects barely tolerated him. Professor Byun, the head of Slytherin house, had felt like throwing Jaemin and then himself into the Great Lake in his attempt to find someone - _anyone_ \- who was willing to undertake a student like Jaemin. Somehow, there had been one professor willing to take him on.

Professor Zhang, Jaemin soon found out, taught Care of Magical Creatures, and _boy_ did Jaemin wish he hadn’t failed everything else. There was a reason why he was yet to choose that particular subject. Another thing people often mistook Jaemin’s confidence for was courage. In reality, Jaemin was deathly afraid of most non-domesticated animals, as well as some of the tamed ones. The mere thought of something crawling up his leg or landing on his head was enough to send a wave of full body jitters right down to his fingertips. So, for the entire summer leading up to fifth year, Jaemin spent most of his time dreading his first lesson.

Even on the train ride to Hogwarts, he fidgeted nervously, but attempted to hide it under an air of nonchalance and teasing remarks. Thankfully, none of his friends had noticed that anything was off, all of them far more excited than he was to be returning to school. It took a little while, but for a couple of hours, Jaemin managed to forget about his fear of the coming week’s classes, distracting himself with loud laughter, bad jokes and a disturbing number of pumpkin pasties. That fear, however, soon returned with the Hogwarts Express’ arrival at Hogsmeade Station. The entire carriage ride up to the castle was an overwhelmingly nauseating experience for Jaemin, a mixture of anxiety, pumpkin pasties and motion sickness churning in his stomach. The queasiness settled down during the Sorting Ceremony, allowing him to happily greet the new first years and enjoy the best meal he had eaten since before the start of summer, but it crept back up on him as he descended the stairs to the Slytherin common room.

That first night back at Hogwarts consisted of the single worst sleep Jaemin had ever had in his life. The unsettling concoction of nerves and paranoia stayed swirling within him, keeping him awake until the early hours of the morning. Due to a rather unfortunate timetable, Jaemin’s first class of the year would be the most anticipated. After a mere three hours of sleep, he miraculously managed to roll out of bed, wash, dress, feed himself and converse with his friends, all whilst functioning on autopilot. If you asked Jaemin now what Donghyuck had been babbling about over breakfast that morning, he would say Mark Lee, most probably, but he couldn’t actually remember. The whole morning blended into somewhat of a blur that didn’t slow until just before his first lesson was due to begin.

Jaemin’s first Care of Magical Creature’s lesson was surely one he would remember for the rest of his life. Professor Zhang was a surprisingly young man who had a smile, bracketed by dimples, and a clear passion for animals. There hadn’t actually been any handling of animals either, instead Professor Zhang showed the class the differences between a knarl and the regular hedgehog. They were actually kind of cute, in Jaemin’s humble opinion, although he daren’t go any nearer than was asked of him. So, Jaemin was free from the real torture. For now, at least. While both the teacher and the actual lesson had been surprisingly relaxed, none of this was what left a lasting impression on Jaemin. None of this was what made him believe that maybe, just maybe, Care of Magical Creatures could be tolerable to some degree.

What made Jaemin’s first class of fifth year memorable was simple yet so complicated. Two words. Seven letters.

Jeno Lee.

Jaemin had never considered himself a romantic until he first laid eyes on his fellow classmate. He had read many a story describing love at first sight; how, when the two character’s eyes met, they knew they had found _the one_. Jaemin had scoffed any time he read this, thinking of it as a complete crock of shit. Jeno Lee managed to change Jaemin’s mind with a single smile. Jaemin knew that as soon as he saw the way Jeno’s eyes disappeared and his teeth gleamed in the sunlight that he was completely and utterly fucked.

***

“I just don’t get how he hasn’t noticed me!”

“Donghyuck, you talk to each other every day. You literally sit next to him in Potions. Mark Lee has definitely noticed you.”

Donghyuck groaned and slammed his head onto the table. “But not in the way I want!” he whined, his voice muffled from where his face was pressed against the wood.

“Well you could always - I don’t know - ask him out?” Renjun sighed exasperatedly, growing tired of his friend’s pining.

“No!” Donghyuck gasped, clutching his proverbial pearls. “What if he doesn’t like me back? I can’t embarrass myself like that.”

“Donghyuck, you were once caught reading pirate erotica in Charms. Whilst crying. I don’t think anything could be more embarrassing than that,” Jaemin butted, shovelling a too-big spoonful of cereal into his mouth and crunching it obnoxiously.

“Captain Swallow had just been separated from his lover, of course I was crying. It was absolutely tragic,” Donghyuck defended, although his cheeks flushed a little as he remembered the embarrassment he had felt when Hyunjin Hwang, a fellow Slytherin, had started reading the book. Out loud. To the entire class. The angry red of Professor Kim’s face could have rivalled a tomato.

Jaemin snickered in response. Renjun looked officially done.

“Seriously, Donghyuck, what’s the worst that could happen,” Renjun asked, his voice softening. 

“He could say no,” Donghyuck all but whispered, choosing to focus on his bowl of porridge to avoid the sympathetic looks from his friends.

A startlingly loud bout of laughter sounded from across the hall, bouncing off the walls and drawing the attention of the trio sitting at the Slytherin table. Donghyuck wasn’t particularly surprised to see Mark Lee cackling loudly along with his abnormally large friend, Yukhei Wong. The two Gryffindors were giggling much too noisily for it being so early in the morning, and Donghyuck would have been rather irritated had it been someone else making such a boisterous racket. But it wasn’t someone else. 

Donghyuck was disgusted with the way he failed to watch Mark with anything other than pure adoration all over his face. He wasn’t entirely sure why he liked the other boy so much. For one they were rivals, both of them being the seeker on their respective Quidditch teams. If that wasn’t a good enough reason, Mark came with a host of other problems. He laughed too much for it to be normal, was too friendly to everyone and had the audacity to be shy any time everyone cheered him on for catching the Golden Snitch at Quidditch games. 

Okay, so maybe Donghyuck did know why, but that didn’t make him any less appalled with himself and his pining. Even after five years of friendly rivalry, Mark was still completely oblivious to Donghyuck’s pathetic crush. Unfortunately, his friends were not only aware of it, but loved to tease Donghyuck about it whenever given the opportunity.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” Renjun muttered, turning his gaze back to Donghyuck, who was still attempting to glance subtly at the Gryffindor seeker. Attempting, being the key word. In actuality, Donghyuck possessed all the subtlety of a natural disaster. He looked about five minutes and ten shots of Firewhiskey away from standing up on the table and announcing his feelings for Mark Lee to the entire Great Hall. At this point, Donghyuck was getting desperate. Maybe that was something to consider. Surely, Mark couldn’t ignore a display such as that.

“Don’t call him the devil, Renjun. We all know Mark’s an angel in Hyuckie’s eyes,” Jaemin teased, reaching out to pinch Donghyuck’s cheek.

“Shut up,” Donghyuck grumbled, slapping Jaemin’s hand away, all the while making a valiant yet unsuccessful attempt to look anywhere _but_ Mark. “You’re not any better.”

Jaemin visibly blanched at this, causing both Donghyuck and Renjun to giggle mischievously.

“Ah, yes, that’s right!” Renjun exclaimed excitedly. “You’ve got a little bit of a Hufflepuff problem, haven’t you?”

Now it was Jaemin’s turn to tell his friends to shut up, struggling to keep his eyes from the Hufflepuff table. He had been trying all morning to keep his attention on his friends, but Jeno was proving to be a slight distraction. It seemed that the others had been too caught up in Donghyuck’s drama to notice the way Jaemin had been secretly glancing at his Care of Magical Creatures classmate for the better part of breakfast. Curse Donghyuck and his deflection tactics.

A week had passed since Jaemin’s last lesson with Professor Zhang, meaning a week had passed since Jaemin last got to see Jeno up close. They didn’t share a single other class together, Slytherin often sharing their lessons with Gryffindor, as did the Hufflepuffs with Ravenclaw, and as a result Jaemin had been left Jeno-less for the better part of a week. While Jaemin had been lacking in the Jeno department, Renjun (the lucky bastard) happened to share several classes with the Hufflepuff.

Jaemin had come to this unfortunate realisation mere hours after his first lesson, or alternatively, his first time having seen Jeno. He had approached the Slytherin table at lunch with a dreamy smile on his face, not bothering to point out that Renjun was a Ravenclaw and a traitor to his kind, like he usually would. All in the name of fun, of course. Everyone, including the teachers, had given up on attempting to separate the three boys, so Renjun was left to sit where he pleased at mealtimes. It seemed that the Ravenclaw actually enjoyed the company of Jaemin and Donghyuck as, more often than not, he chose to eat at the Slytherin table. On that particular day, Jaemin almost wished that Renjun had decided to sit with his fellow Ravenclaws. Before Jaemin had even sat down, his friend had already pointed out the wistful smile on his face and after an embarrassingly short interrogation, Renjun had figured out that Jaemin was hopelessly in love. Well, maybe not love, but it sure as hell felt like it.

Jaemin had learned through Renjun that Jeno Lee was nothing short of an absolute sweetheart. The fifth year Hufflepuff was kind and considerate, always willing to help others, and loved animals despite being allergic to most of them. He also learned that Renjun actually considered himself to be friends with Jeno, leaving Jaemin to wonder how he had never met his future husband before this point. (Donghyuck argued that it was probably due the amount of Euphoria Elixir Jaemin consumed in his fourth year after a nasty Quidditch injury – he was probably right as Jaemin struggled to remember much from that year at all other than Donghyuck’s incident in Charms and perhaps the worst Halloween feast Hogwarts had ever seen). 

Jaemin was startled out of his reverie by Donghyuck waving a hand quite vigorously in his face. He felt his cheeks begin to burn under the gazes of his friends, embarrassed that he had been caught. Donghyuck may have been shameless enough to recover from the erotica incident, but Jaemin, while unabashedly flirtatious, was nowhere near as brazen. 

Fortunately, more laughter sounded from the other side of the hall, distracting Donghyuck once more. With Donghyuck otherwise preoccupied and Renjun now concentrating on reading the Daily Prophet, Jaemin found his gaze drifting back to the Hufflepuff table. He nearly fell out of his seat when he realised that he was already being watched. Jeno’s glittering eyes were already very much focused on Jaemin. Shit, did he notice that Jaemin had been staring at him? Jaemin being the confident boy that he was, immediately redirected his gaze to his cereal. It was soggy now.

Renjun looked up from his paper and raised an eyebrow at the sight in front of him: Donghyuck gazing wantonly across the hall and Jaemin frowning into his cereal, intermittently looking over at the Hufflepuff table. Merlin, his friends were hopeless.

By the time breakfast ended, Mark was still laughing, Donghyuck was still staring, Jaemin was still looking at his cereal as though it had just offended him, and Renjun was considering hexing the lot of them.


	2. love to hate you

Doyoung was not having a good day. At all. Whatsoever. 

It had all started when he failed to wake up in time for breakfast, something that Doyoung  _ never _ did. He had even set three separate alarms to ensure he didn’t sleep in, but to no avail. Fortunately, Wonwoo, his dormmate, had made sure Doyoung wasn’t late for anything else, waking him up with a tap on the shoulder and a slice of soggy toast. In his frantic rush to get ready, Doyoung managed to misplace both his tie and the other half of his pair of Monday socks. Not deigning to go as far as wearing his Tuesday socks, Doyoung ended up leaving his dorm sockless after deciding that no socks were better than one. Then, as if his day wasn’t already shaping up to be a bad one, he managed to knock over an entire suit of armour on his way to class. Obviously feeling very wronged by being toppled over, the suit of armour chased Doyoung all the way through the castle, causing the poor Ravenclaw to arrive at his Alchemy lesson dishevelled, sweaty and possibly on the brink of tears. One benefit of being chased by a charmed suit of armour was that he had arrived several minutes early to his lesson rather than late.

Professor Park smiled widely as Doyoung stumbled into the classroom, pleased to see his favourite student. Doyoung attempted to smile back but even without a mirror he could tell that it looked much more like a strained grimace. Only one other student had arrived before him, who also happened to be the last person Doyoung wanted to see that glorious morning.

Jaehyun Jung sat at the back of the classroom, sprawled across both his own seat and the one beside him, not even glancing up at Doyoung’s arrival. One arm rested on the back of his chair whilst the other held an apple, tossing it in the air every so often. Show off. Everyone already knew he was made for the position of Keeper; there was absolutely no need to give constant reminders. Without saying a word to the other boy, Doyoung slid into one of the seats nearer the front of the room. That way he was closer to the teacher and as far away from Jaehyun as he could be in such a small space. 

Unfortunately for Doyoung, Alchemy wasn’t one of the most sought-after subjects at Hogwarts and often the classes were very small. In fact, Doyoung thought that had it not been for him practically begging Professor Park, the class wouldn’t have run at all. (Being a bit of a teacher’s pet had its perks). The main downside of having a smaller class was the inability to avoid the other students, especially when there were only two others. On this particular day, the Best Day of Doyoung’s Life ™ , it seemed that Kun had failed to turn up. This wouldn’t be a problem for most people, but the fact that Doyoung harboured a passionate hatred towards Jaehyun resulted in many arguments that, without the mediation of another student like Kun, would most probably end disastrously.

As Doyoung began unpacking his bag, stacking a pile of textbooks precariously atop his desk, Professor Park stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over in the process.

“Sorry, boys,” the tall man apologised, stumbling in his haste to leave the room. “It appears that I have left my notes for today’s lesson in the Great Hall. Won’t be long.” Before those last words had even fully left his mouth, the professor sped out of the room at top speed.

Doyoung didn’t even attempt to stifle the irritated sigh that left his mouth, his body deflating in exhaustion as he slouched down in his seat. While Professor Park had an excellent mind, it seemed that all his thoughts were occupied by Alchemy and little else. An amused snort sounded from the back of the classroom. Ah yes, Doyoung wasn’t alone. Not that he had forgotten, he had just chosen to ignore the obnoxious presence of a certain Gryffindor.

“What happened to you this morning? It looks like you were thrown off your broom and landed in the Whomping Willow.”

Doyoung rolled his eyes but elected to pretend as if he hadn’t heard Jaehyun’s comment. He really, really,  _ really _ did not want to put up with the other boy’s shit. Not today, nor any other day. Clearly Jaehyun was not pleased with Doyoung’s lack of response, as in a matter of seconds, the Gryffindor appeared in the seat beside him.

“Ah, I see,” Jaehyun sighed, obviously preparing to taunt Doyoung. “I always knew you were the type to give the silent treatment.”

Doyoung huffed shortly in response, his fists clenching where they sat on his desk.

“I’m not giving you the silent treatment, I’m just saving my breath for something actually worth my time,” he replied, still refusing to look Jaehyun in the face. Doyoung had always seen it as rather punchable, and once he got heated, Doyoung could not be held accountable for his actions. He really didn’t want Professor Park to return to a crime scene. Not yet, at least. Crimes of passion weren’t really Doyoung’s thing. He was much smarter than that.

“Doyoungie!” Jaehyun gasped dramatically, almost forcing a disbelieving scoff out of the miserable Ravenclaw. “Oh, how you wound me!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Doyoung could see Jaehyun theatrically clutch his heart before collapsing onto the desk. What an attention seeking drama queen. No wonder he was a Gryffindor.

“Do I really mean so little to you?” Jaehyun whined as he lifted his head from the desk. This time Doyoung did turn to face the other boy, but immediately wished he hadn’t. Jaehyun was pouting. He was pouting like a fucking child and Doyoung’s brain started to short circuit. Jaehyun was so stupidly attractive, even while pulling the ugliest of faces, and it angered Doyoung so much that he wanted nothing more than to hit him. Preferably on the mouth. With his own.

Doyoung had realised way back in third year that he would never be awarded heterosexual boyfriend of the year. It just wasn’t on his long list of aspirations. However, there may have been something about finding a boyfriend of his own that very much appealed to him. Unfortunately, halfway through his fifth year at Hogwarts, a spanner was thrown in the works. The spanner, in this case, being someone by the name of Jaehyun Jung. Through a rather unfortunate turn of events, Doyoung unearthed a deep, dark secret from within himself; he was just a little, teeny tiny bit attracted to the Gryffindor keeper.

It all started just as it had with most other people who had a crush on Jaehyun (although Doyoung would rather spend a decade in Azkaban than admit that that’s what he felt): during a Quidditch match.

The mid-November air was clear and icy - a tooth chattering, blue lipped kind of cold. Doyoung had been dragged away from his cozy study spot in the library by an overly excited Jeno and an equally as compliant Jungwoo, begging the Ravenclaw to come to the Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor game. Doyoung’s initial reaction was to refuse, valiantly attempting to stay concentrated on the work in front of him. His resolution was broken in less than five minutes. The two younger Hufflepuffs knew that Doyoung had a soft spot for them, but Jeno and Jungwoo with begging puppy eyes was too much for his weak heart and before he knew it, Doyoung was huddled between the two boys, barely able to hear himself think over the deafening cheers of his fellow students. The game hadn’t even started, and already Doyoung was being knocked about like a bowling pin from all angles. He was preparing some sort of excuse to tell his friends, desperate to leave the ruckus and get back to studying, when a loud screech sounded throughout the stadium, followed by a voice over the speaker.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the… what? Oh, that’s for weddings? Sorry professor. Ahem, yes! We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two teams, and the ultimate demise of one! Please welcome Hufflepuff and Gryffindor to the pitch!”

Doyoung found himself chuckling quietly at the commentary, so eloquently put by a fellow fifth year named Ten. Doyoung wasn’t really friends with the Slytherin, but there was no denying that he was one of the funniest students in their year, if not the whole of Hogwarts. The crowd roared as the two teams, one clad in robes of sunshine yellow, the other in deep crimson, entered the pitch below. The two teams of seven looked comically tiny from where Doyoung sat, like little ants. Both Jeno and Jungwoo were yelling loudly as their team lined up on one side of the pitch, while Doyoung covered his pathetically sensitive ears.

“On the right, we have the team that looks like bees and sting like bees, and potentially all sound like bees: Hufflepuff, lead by captain Hoseok Jung! This will be Jung’s last year at Hogwarts. This is his make or break game: can Jung land his first win before he leaves?”

The cheering around him seemed to intensify tenfold, if that was even possible, and Doyoung felt like crying.

“On the left, we have our reigning champions of five years: Gryffindor! This year our roaring lions are captained by the one, the only, the magnificent, the majestic, the – ah, sorry professor – It’s Johnny Seo!”

If Doyoung had felt like crying before, he was now on his way to full blown, body wracking sobs. He mentally promised himself that this was going to be the last Quidditch game he would ever attend if he could help it. On either side of him, the two Hufflepuffs seemed to be having a grand time, cheering and smiling, waving their scarves about. One misplaced wave and Doyoung would be smacked with a mouthful of bumblebee striped wool.

Down on the pitch Doyoung could see the players all mounting their brooms before lifting off the ground, one by one, in a fiery blur of red and yellow. It was at that moment that Doyoung knew he would end up breaking his newly created promise. As if in slow motion, a red figure swooped into the air in front of him, swirling expertly above the crowd. Just as Doyoung was about to scoff out loud at the obvious performance, he caught a glimpse of the Gryffindor’s face. The scoff got trapped in his throat with a choke as he caught eyes with the player.

Everyone knew Jaehyun. How could they not. He was Keeper on the Gryffindor team, he was charming, popular and downright gorgeous. Of course, Doyoung knew of Jaehyun. He would have to be living under a literal rock to not know. One day, he had even heard one of the paintings talking about Jaehyun Jung. Doyoung knew of Jaehyun, but he didn’t  _ know _ him. He had never really understood the obsession.

He did now. Doyoung felt his eyes go comically wide as they locked with Jaehyun’s. Merlin. In that moment, he  _ wanted  _ to know Jaehyun. Their eye contact only lasted a split second but to Doyoung, it had felt like an eternity. In that moment, Doyoung swore that Jaehyun’s face flashed with surprise, his lips parting with a gasp, but Doyoung couldn’t understand why and decided he had merely invented it, a figment of his wistful imagination.

Suddenly, Jaehyun was dipping on his broom and flying away to join the rest of his team.

In that moment, Doyoung had wanted to know Jaehyun. One year later, he was cursing that very thought.

_ Do I really mean that little to you? _

No. Somehow, Jaehyun meant much more than a little to Doyoung, but he couldn’t admit that. He would only be making a fool of himself. Jaehyun could have anyone he wanted. The Ravenclaw cringed at the thought of Jaehyun laughing in his face, that someone like Doyoung thought they had a chance. Doyoung felt himself shiver. No. He couldn’t allow something so humiliating to happen.

“Jung,” Doyoung addressed the Gryffindor, who was still pouting in the seat next to him. “Nothing has ever meant less to me than you. Given the opportunity, I would feed you to the giant squid for a chocolate frog.”

Surprisingly, Jaehyun’s face dropped in response. Doyoung almost, almost, felt bad, but then he remembered that this was Jaehyun, Gryffindor’s golden boy and Hogwarts’ heartthrob. One comment from someone like Doyoung would barely bruise his ego, never mind hurt him. For a moment, neither boy said nothing. Jaehyun’s smug smile didn’t return and Doyoung’s heart began to drop. When Jaehyun laughed, a soulless, short, unforgiving sound, Doyoung felt it leave his body entirely. The smile that Jaehyun was wearing looked forced and fake, like a mask that didn’t look quite human enough to pass as the real thing.

“Kim,” he started, his voice unnaturally chipper. “With a face like this, I’m worth at least three chocolate frogs. Even a muggle born like you should know that.”

Doyoung froze. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of being from a muggle family, far from it. What he didn’t appreciate was other wizards using that fact as an insult, as a way to look down on him, as if they were more of a wizard than he was. Although blood purity wasn’t a problem like it had been many years before, Doyoung still found himself getting defensive when anyone brought up his family. He was just as good of a wizard as anyone else at Hogwarts, perhaps even better than most.

Maybe it was the morning he had struggled to come out alive of, or maybe it was Jaehyun, or maybe it was Doyoung’s temper. Maybe it was a combination of all three that led to Professor Park re-entering the classroom to find Doyoung Kim pinning Jaehyun Jung to the ground, wand in hand and snarl on his face.

Doyoung really wished he had never got to know Jaehyun.

His heart was somewhere on the floor, abandoned, beating weakly and crying for help.

***

“Did you hear? Jae got detention - with Doyoung Kim!”

“What? No, you’re lying. No way did Doyoung get detention.”

“I’m telling you! I heard it straight from the horse’s mouth.”

“Johnny, it’s very rude of you to refer to your best friend as a horse. Jaehyun doesn’t look even remotely like one.”

“It’s just a saying, Ten. A phrase. An idiom, if you will.”

“Muggles are strange people.”

“I agree. My parents are by far the strangest of the lot.”

It was a surprisingly sunny day for mid-September, bright and a little humid. Johnny and Ten were spread out on the grassy banks of the lake, their robes acting as blankets on the ground beneath them. Other students were doing the same, using their lunch to take advantage of the rarely pleasant weather. The sky was mostly clear, with a small scattering of clouds disturbing the blueness of it all.

Johnny felt Ten’s arm brush against his own as the younger boy’s body shook with laughter. He didn’t need to look at Ten to know that he was smiling brightly. They had been friends for so long that they were attuned to each other’s every move, laugh and frown. Johnny felt himself smile too.

“Hey, lovebirds!” a familiar voice called from behind them, accompanied by the sound of grass rustling beneath someone’s feet.

“Thought you were supposed to be in detention, Jae?” Johnny asked, remaining on the ground as Jaehyun approached.

“Yeah, shouldn’t you be locked up in a room with Kim right now? Can’t imagine you would willingly miss out on that,” Ten added, snickering as Jaehyun’s disapproving face appeared, looming over them from above with a reproachful glare.

“Shut up,” he muttered weakly in response, prompting his two friends to laugh loudly. Grumbling under his breath, Jaehyun lowered himself to the ground and laid back on the grass next to Johnny, who was now sandwiched between the other Gryffindor and Ten. “Professor Park got the time mixed up and went to bed early, so it’s been rescheduled to tonight.”

“Leave it to Park to get the literal time of day mixed up. I’m convinced that man lives in an alternate universe,” Johnny snorted, grateful he had elected to opt out of Alchemy.

“So…” Ten piped up, lifting himself onto one elbow to peer over at Jaehyun with a mischievous smirk. “What  _ did _ you do to land the Perfect Prefect in detention?”

Jaehyun made an affronted sound. “What makes you think it was my fault?”

“Isn’t it always?” Johnny chuckled. Jaehyun smacked him in the stomach, sending the taller Gryffindor into a bout of choked coughs.

“Ah, ye of little faith!” Jaehyun exclaimed offendedly. “For your information, it was only thirty percent my fault this time.”

“Seventy percent of the onus is on Kim?” Johnny let out a disbelieving laugh, sounding completely flabbergasted. “Merlin, what did he do? Hex you?”

“Almost,” Jaehyun sighed pensively as he recalled that morning. It was somewhat of a blur, but it would be difficult to forget Doyoung pouncing on him angrily, tackling him to the ground with his wand brandished threateningly. He wasn’t sure exactly what he had said that had angered the Ravenclaw so much, but Jaehyun had decided that he should probably apologise. He had spent the entirety of Charms agonising over it, rehearsing his apology over and over, amending it each time, only for their detention to be postponed. Now Jaehyun was left with several additional hours of painful contemplation, and he wasn’t all that sure he could make it through them alive.

“Now I wish I had picked Alchemy,” Johnny bemoaned, evidently sad he had missed out on the drama after listening to Jaehyun’s account of events.

Ten nodded in agreement, looking both put out and amused in equal measures. “I didn’t realise Doyoung had it in him. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him laugh. Who would’ve thought; one word from Jae and he’s throwing himself at you?”

Jaehyun cracked a small smile at this, even with the memory of Doyoung’s furious face replaying in his head. It was the angriest Jaehyun had ever seen him in all their months of arguments and insults and teasing. Something about the way Doyoung had looked at him, seething with unbridled anger, made Jaehyun vow he would never be the cause of such a look ever again.

Lying on the sun-warmed grass, Jaehyun silently practiced his apology. It had to be perfect. Nothing less would be acceptable for the Perfect Prefect.

***

He was staring again.

Mark could literally  _ feel  _ Donghyuck’s eyes boring into his face all the way from the Slytherin table, and it took all of his willpower to stop it from heating up into a violently red blush. For the past two weeks Mark’s mealtimes had occurred in near identical fashion; he would sit at the Gryffindor table, next to Yukhei, Johnny and Jaehyun, eat his food, laugh with his friends, all the while trying to avoid catching Donghyuck’s longing glances from across the hall. It was only the beginning of term and he was already exhausted. He didn’t know how much longer it would take before Donghyuck actually did something. For years, Mark had been giving off very obvious signals that he was very interested, but it seemed that Donghyuck was either very oblivious or very stupid, leading Mark to become very frustrated.

“Your boyfriend’s staring again,” Johnny suddenly murmured in his ear, making Mark jump at the unexpected proximity.

“Um,” he said intelligently, awkwardly clearing his throat. “I, uh, I hadn’t noticed. Didn’t realise. Don’t even know who you’re talking about.”

“Nice,” Yukhei snorted from across the table, scooping an abnormally large mountain of peas into his mouth. Mark felt his face heat up as Johnny cackled loudly beside him.

“Yeah, right,” Johnny laughed breathlessly. “As if you haven’t noticed ickle Donghyuckie watching you like a love struck puppy for weeks. I’m surprised you haven’t been doing the same.”

“He doesn’t look love struck,” a flustered Mark exclaimed defensively. “He just looks a bit…”

He trailed off as his eyes travelled to the Slytherin table. His breath caught in his throat as they locked with a pair of familiar brown ones. Shit. Johnny was right. Donghyuck did look like a puppy.  _ Cute _ .

Yukhei began choking on his peas, causing Mark to return his gaze to his friend. Fuck. He’d said that part out loud, hadn’t he? He felt like a true Gryffindor now, what with his burning red face. Very patriotic. Matched his tie rather nicely. Johnny was still laughing and Yukhei was still choking, drawing the attention of neighbouring students.

“Shut up, both of you,” Mark hissed, conscious of the numerous pairs of eyes trained on them. Somehow, in all the commotion, Mark could still feel Donghyuck’s gaze. Hours later, dinner having long finished, Mark could still feel it. He would probably be able to feel it for the rest of his life.

Mark didn’t think he would mind.

**_three months later_ **

Taeyong had just left the confusing commotion of the library, only for him to enter into something much, much worse. He actually wished he had just stayed there. Watching the fifth years flounder about in search of the mysterious Napoleon would be much better than this. Being nibbled by Cornish Pixies would be preferable to this.

This, referring to the sight that awaited Taeyong in the Hufflepuff common room. Immediately upon entering, he was confronted with the sight of a flustered and sweaty Jungwoo, accompanied by a similarly dishevelled Yukhei. It was both entirely obvious and a complete mystery as to what Taeyong had interrupted.

“I promise, it’s not what it looks like!” Jungwoo yelped frantically, brushing down his hair. Beside him, Yukhei awkwardly straightened his crumpled clothes, his face suspiciously pink.

“I don’t even know what it looks like,” Taeyong replied helplessly before rushing past them, towards his room, ignoring the excuses the two boys began shouting after him.

What was it with the students in this school? It was times like these that Taeyong wished he had never accepted the Head Boy position.


	3. win me over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *warning* one of the characters experiences a panic attack in this chapter. it's not heavily detailed but i thought that i should point it out just in case :)

Jaemin had decided that the only way he could continue living with himself was if he spent the rest of his life locked in the Chamber of Secrets. Preferably without the Basalisk, but beggars can’t be choosers, so he could probably endure it if necessary. If nothing else, the creature would make great company. Maybe, befriending a deadly monster would aid in curing Jaemin’s completely irrational fear of animals. (The more rational part of his brain had pointed out that this was perhaps a step too far and that there were much easier and more accessible ways of dealing with phobias.)

It was this fear that had led to Jaemin wishing either social reclusion or instant death upon himself. If he had thought that Care of Magical Creatures was bad before, it had now become the bane of Jaemin’s very existence.

Number one; the animals were increasing in both size and threat, resulting in Jaemin having to receive a pep talk from his friends before every lesson, which really, he could probably do without because listening to Donghyuck wax poetic about Mark’s left eyebrow was entirely non-inspirational, nor applicable to Jaemin’s current dilemma. Renjun wasn’t much help either, simply telling Jaemin to “Get over it or I’ll shove a spider down your pants”, his oddly serious tone sending shivers down Jaemin’s spine and forcing him into a state of constant paranoia for several days afterwards. He didn’t even want to think about Jisung’s attempt at an inspirational speech. That diagram had been unnecessary and truly disturbing.

Number two; trying not to act like a complete baby in front of Jeno every time Professor Zhang brought out their class’ flavour of the week was becoming both exhausting and traumatising. Jaemin was now a broken man. Several weeks of repressed cries of fear and nervously sweaty palms was beginning to take a toll on him, and Jaemin wasn’t sure how much longer he could uphold such a façade, all in order to impress a boy.

On this particular day, Jaemin reached a breaking point. Had he known that the creature they would be oh-so-kindly caring for would be a hippogriff, Jaemin would’ve feigned illness, or chopped off his left hand, just so he didn’t have to go. It was a little-known fact that, despite his fear of most creatures in general, Jaemin had an intensely passionate dislike for anything that could fly. It was ironic, what with him being on the Slytherin Quidditch team, but the thought of something already so terrifying to Jaemin being able to fly created living, breathing nightmares. Unfortunately for Jaemin, he didn’t find out about this particularly fateful detail until moments before the lesson began.

The early morning sun shone a little too brightly for Jaemin’s liking, still rubbing sleep from his eyes as he made his way to the edge of the forest. That really should have been the first warning sign, but Jaemin wasn’t exactly known to be a morning person and had groggily accepted the instruction, not consciously acknowledging anything that had been said to him by his classmates. His feet slipped on the dew-slicked grass with an obnoxious squeak, but he managed to right himself before he could kiss the ground. Just as well, because not a moment later, Jeno materialised out of thin air mere inches beside him.

“Morning, Jaemin,” the Hufflepuff greeted, his smile as bright as the sun. It took Jaemin’s sleep-addled brain a few seconds too long to recognise that Jeno was speaking to him, but when it registered Jaemin found himself choking on his own saliva with a surprised gasp.

“Morning,” he managed to wheeze out in reply, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. Of course, Jaemin would make a complete fool out of himself when conversing with his crush. Why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t necessarily their first interaction; they had spoken a few times in class, but it had always been about the animals, always about the topic of study, never crossing the boundaries of anything even remotely personal. To say Jaemin felt rather caught off guard would be an understatement, evident by his poorly handled, poorly executed reaction.

Jaemin silently cursed whoever he was in his past life for making him deserve such karma. He hoped he would end up as something inanimate in his next one, like a rock or a grain of sand, so that this never happened again. Where was smooth and confident Jaemin when he needed him most? And who on earth was this blundering fool that could barely string a sentence together when all he did was make eye contact with another human being?

Seemingly ignoring Jaemin’s internal turmoil, Jeno continued to smile brightly. Jaemin felt his heart flip.

“Are you looking forward to today’s lesson?” Jeno asked giddily, not allowing Jaemin time to answer before continuing excitedly. “ _ I _ definitely am. I’ve always wanted to see a hippogriff up close.”

Jaemin’s steps faltered. Did he hear Jeno right?

“A hippogriff?” he echoed, trying with all his might to sound nowhere near as nervous as he actually felt.

“Yeah! Didn’t you know?” Jeno frowned, oblivious to Jaemin’s pounding heart and sweating hands. For once, the Slytherin wished that Jeno was the cause of these symptoms, not his peculiar phobia.

“I, uh, no,” Jaemin stuttered. “No, I didn’t. Wish I’d known sooner.”

“Tell me about it, I only found out yesterday!” Jeno whined, pouting cutely. If this were any other day, that alone would have distracted Jaemin in a heartbeat and left him resisting the urge to pinch Jeno’s cheeks. Unfortunately, this was perhaps the worst day of Jaemin’s life.

“It would’ve been nice to have more time before meeting it,” Jeno continued, a slight skip in his step as the two boys got closer to the forest. “I’m still far too excited. Look! My hands are shaking.”

Jaemin blinked when Jeno suddenly stuck his hand out and, sure enough, it trembled. Jaemin’s own hands were trembling where they were clenched tightly at his sides. It was almost laughable, how Jeno could hardly contain his endearing excitement, and Jaemin was struggling to hide his chronic fear, yet both were having the same symptomatic reaction. How romantic.

Jaemin chuckled weakly in response. “Yeah,” he forced out with a strained smile. At this, Jeno turned to face him, a funny look on his face, as though he were finally starting to see through Jaemin’s poorly fashioned mask of invincibility. The Slytherin found himself floundering to conceal his nerves but was mercifully interrupted by the loud chattering of the rest of the class, who were all gathered before the forest line.

“Jeno!” a voice called out as the two boys approached their fellow students. It was another Hufflepuff student that Jaemin vaguely recognised but didn’t know the name of. Beside him, Jeno waved at his friend and returned the greeting. Jaemin felt uncharacteristically relieved by the distraction, exhausted from his attempt at keeping it together in front of Jeno. Just as it looked like the Hufflepuff was about to start towards his friend, Jaemin let out a deflated sigh, resigning himself to a lesson of the utmost torturous pain. Unfortunately, to Jaemin’s horror, he let his true colours show a little too soon. Jeno hadn’t  _ actually _ left to go and talk to his friend and was very much still in Jaemin’s presence.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jeno asked softly, too softly, his eyebrows drawn in concern. For some reason, Jaemin felt the inexplicable urge to cry; Jeno’s words were too gentle, too caring, too much. His eyes stung and his breath stuttered and his palms were sweating. Merlin, he couldn’t  _ breathe _ . Jeno watched him worriedly and Jaemin couldn’t fucking breathe.

And then, like the opening of the gates of hell, Professor Zhang appeared with that  _ thing _ in tow. The hippogriff’s amber eyes glinted threateningly and Jaemin’s fear addled mind convinced him that it was looking directly at him, sizing  _ him  _ up even amongst the crowded huddle of his classmates, all of whom, minus Jaemin and Jeno, swarmed excitedly closer around their teacher and his companion. Suddenly, something grasped Jaemin’s hand, warm and unexpected, making him startle and instantly attempt to flinch away.

“Hey, Jaemin,” a hushed voice murmured in his ear. “It’s okay, it’s just me. I’m here.”

The warmth surrounding his hand was from that of another – Jeno’s hand. Jaemin felt like he was underwater, like everything wasn’t real. The chattering of the other students had become muffled and Jaemin’s vision swam, his surroundings becoming distant and hazy. He needed to leave. And fast.

Something tugged at Jaemin’s hand, dragging him away from the excited huddle of their classmates and towards the comfort of the castle.

*******

“Shit, is Jaemin okay?” Yuta exclaimed as he and Donghyuck left the locker room, his broomstick gripped tightly in hand.

“I mean, he’s as fine as you can be after having a panic attack,” Donghyuck frowned worriedly, thinking about how pale Jaemin had looked when Jeno brought him into the infirmary. “He’ll be exhausted, but Madame Bae is looking after him. He’ll be alright.”

“Thank god,” Yuta sighed relievedly. “When Jisung told me he’d been sent to the infirmary I thought something  _ really _ bad had happened, like he was missing an eyeball or something. Not that having a panic attack isn’t bad, but at least he’s not in any physical pain.”

“Yeah, I just hope he’ll be alright,” Donghyuck agreed, thankful that Yuta was the kind of team captain that actually cared about his players. He’d heard some real nightmare stories about the last Slytherin captain, recalling one particular rumour about how he’d gotten so frustrated that he’d knocked one of the Beaters off their broom, causing them to break both their broom and their arm.

Quidditch season was slowly approaching, so Yuta had called for an afternoon practice on the pitch. The team were already gathered on the grass - minus Jaemin - chattering amongst themselves as they awaited Yuta’s arrival. It didn’t seem like anything was out of sorts at first, but as Donghyuck and the captain got closer to the huddle of students, they realised that there were a lot more than their usual number of players standing beside the chest containing the Quaffle, Bludgers and Snitch.

“Seo!” Yuta bellowed as they approached, the Gryffindor captain visibly towering over the other students. “What are you doing here? I booked the pitch already.”

“Nakamoto, my friend!” Johnny greeted loudly, a pleased grin plastered across his face. Yuta didn’t look anywhere near as thrilled. “Just the man I was looking for.”

“What do you want?” Yuta grumbled, eyeing the Gryffindor team with an air of disdain. Donghyuck couldn’t help the way his steps faltered upon noticing Mark, who was standing just next to Johnny. He sucked in a sharp breath when he realised that the Gryffindor Seeker was already looking his way.

“I just wanted to suggest a practice game,” Johnny replied, holding up his sleek broom as evidence of his plan. “A little friendly competition.” 

His smile was beginning to look a lot more challenging.  _ Shit _ . Yuta could never back down from a challenge; it was his one and only hubris. Well, that and his unfailing ability to flirt with a certain Hufflepuff (read: Sicheng Dong) despite the fact his attempts were never reciprocated.

The rest of the Slytherin team collectively groaned in protest, all complaining that this was their practice and that it wasn’t fair of the Gryffindor team to gate-crash. Donghyuck was barely surprised when Yuta told them all to shut up, proceeding to agree with Johnny’s proposal.

“Alright,” Yuta nodded with a proud sniff. “But we’ll need a referee.”

“I’ll do it!” a small voice cried out amidst the crowd of Quidditch players. Suddenly, Chenle Zhong, a fourth year Hufflepuff materialised in front of Yuta. “I’ll do it, I can referee!”

“When the fuck did you get here,” Yuta muttered, causing Donghyuck to let out an unattractive snort of laughter. He’d probably been here the whole time, hidden next to Jisung. “Fine, anyone have a problem with this small child acting as referee?”

Donghyuck didn’t think anyone could find it in themselves to say no to the angelic smile on Chenle’s face, and soon they began their game. At first it seemed that the young Hufflepuff was rather taken with his new role, blowing the whistle excitedly at every chance he got before Yuta yelled at him, threatening to take away the whistle altogether. After that, the game was fairly smooth sailing, both teams easily catching up with one another until they were in a draw. Donghyuck had spent most of the game hovering above it all, eyes flickering frantically around the pitch in search of the tiny yet all-important Snitch. Across the pitch, Mark was doing the same, occasionally dipping lower when it looked like he thought he’d caught a glimpse of it.

It wasn’t until they had been playing for almost forty minutes that the Snitch finally made an appearance. Donghyuck was the first to spot it, its golden wings glinting teasingly in the sun. He didn’t hesitate for even a second before diving down with practiced grace, winding in between the other players as he chased after it. Out of his peripheral vision, Donghyuck could see Mark doing the same, gaining speed with every second that passed as they dropped lower and lower, the Snitch never once choosing to go anywhere but down. Mark was now beside him, wind flapping at their robes with a deafening flutter as they both sped up. 

Above them, Donghyuck could hear his teammates cheering him on, whilst Mark’s did the same with him, no longer paying much attention to their own game. Chenle was back to excitedly blowing his whistle, the shrill sound drowning out almost everything else. Donghyuck was so close, reaching out a hand towards the Snitch. He and Mark were getting dangerously low to the ground now and Donghyuck began to worry that they’d crash, but he was so, so close to winning – he couldn’t give up now. Just as Donghyuck’s fingers brushed the Snitch, Mark swiftly pulled upwards, essentially inviting the Slytherin to catch it. And catch it he did.

Despite the congratulatory cheers coming from his team, Donghyuck couldn’t help but frown as he flew upwards, realising just how close he had been to nose diving into the grass. However, that wasn’t the cause of the draw of Donghyuck’s brow. No, the issue here was that Mark had let him win. Donghyuck had been close to catching the Snitch anyway, but so had Mark. If he hadn’t pulled up at the last second, there was a good chance he would have caught it. Deciding not to say anything just yet, Donghyuck merely smiled in response to his team’s celebratory exclamations, lowering himself safely onto the ground. Just a few feet away, Mark received pats on the back from his own teammates, all of them looking a little sullen at their loss. Unexpectedly, Mark threw a glance over his shoulder, eyes smiling as they landed on Donghyuck who was frozen where he stood beside a bragging Yuta. For some reason, Donghyuck felt inexplicably angry and, in a fit of sudden rage, he stormed over to the Gryffindor team, grabbed an unsuspecting Mark by the arm, and dragged him off to the Slytherin changing rooms, ignoring the questioning glances that followed them.

“Hey, what’re you doing?” Mark asked as they entered the changing room, rubbing his arm where Donghyuck had held on tightly.

“Why did you let me win?” Donghyuck prodded angrily, cutting straight to the chase. At first, Mark’s eyes widened with surprise, whether at Donghyuck’s accusation or the fact that Donghyuck had even noticed, the younger did not know.

“W-what do you mean?” Mark stuttered, his cheeks growing pink under Donghyuck’s unwavering glare.

“You  _ know _ what I mean,” Donghyuck all but growled. “You knew you had a chance at winning, a good one, so why did you just let me catch the Snitch?”

This time Mark looked bewildered but in a much different way than before. 

“Look,” he sighed, looking rather defeated. “It’s not like that. I know how competitive you get, and you were so close to catching it anyway. I didn’t want you to end up hating me for stealing it from you, or something. I’m sorry if I made it look like I was letting you win. You’re a really talented Seeker, like one of the best I’ve seen. I don’t want to make you feel like you’re not, so I’m sorry if I did.”

All that Donghyuck could do in response was gape silently at Mark, his jaw practically on the floor. Mark Lee… was apologising to him? Was this real?

“Why do you care if I hate you or not,” he decided to say, his brain still scrambled from Mark’s sincere apology.

Mark suddenly let out a sigh, his face drooping sadly. “You really don’t know?”

Donghyuck was convinced that his brain was full of worms or something. Why was nothing making sense? 

“Know what?”

Another sigh. “I- never mind. I’ll see you around.”

And with that, Mark walked out of the changing rooms in a flurry of robes. Donghyuck remained in the same place, frozen, until the rest of his team began to file into the changing rooms.

“Hey, Hyuck! Everything good?” Yuta asked cheerfully, clapping the Seeker on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Donghyuck breathed, eyes still fixated on the spot where Mark had been standing minutes before.

What the fuck had just happened?

*******

Miraculously, Doyoung managed to survive his detention with Jaehyun. Probably because they hadn’t actually been able to interact during it, Professor Park sending them off to do various tasks that he would otherwise forget or not bother to do. (Doyoung’s personal favourite had been organising the professor’s filing cabinet – he had been itching to alphabetise that thing for  _ months _ .) He wasn’t entirely sure what job Jaehyun had been sent off to complete, but it must’ve been something time consuming because Doyoung had finished his own task without seeing Jaehyun return.

Doyoung also wondered if Jaehyun had accidentally charmed himself while he was away because in the days and then weeks following their detention, the Gryffindor had begun to act suspiciously pleasantly towards him. The teasing smiles and playful remarks all but ceased, replaced with sincere smiles and - much to Doyoung’s horror - compliments. If Jaehyun hadn’t been charmed, this was definitely the result of some strange bet. It wouldn’t surprise Doyoung if Johnny or even Ten had dared Jaehyun to be nice to him for a sum of money. Why else would he offer to carry Doyoung’s books or bring him food when he’d skipped dinner to study in the library?

It was nice to know that Doyoung wasn’t going completely crazy, because his own friends had started to take notice too. One evening, Doyoung had been working on an essay in the library, along with Kun, Taeil and Taeyong, all four of them furiously scribbling away when Jaehyun appeared out of nowhere brandishing an apple. Doyoung barely flinched as the shiny red fruit appeared in front of him.

“Are you trying to poison me now?” he asked flatly, not deigning to look up from his Potions essay. Across the table, the rest of his friends had paused in their writing, all fixing Jaehyun with confused stares, bewildered by the events taking place before their eyes.

“Why would I do that?” Jaehyun laughed, rapping his knuckles against the table. The librarian glared at the sound, but Jaehyun either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Probably the latter. “Just thought you might be hungry since you missed dinner.”

“Right,” Doyoung scoffed disbelievingly, eyeing the polished apple warily. “And you expect me to believe that, do you?”

“It’s the truth,” Jaehyun shrugged, nudging the apple a little closer. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, but I’ll be a bit upset if you let it go to waste.”

Doyoung didn’t have to look at Jaehyun to know he was pouting.

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. It’s none of your business,” Doyoung muttered, his eyes burning holes into the parchment of his essay despite the fact he hadn’t actually written anything for several seconds.

“I wouldn’t have even brought you the apple if you had just gone to dinner,” Jaehyun pointed out, his tone void of his usual smirk. Something about that didn’t sit right with Doyoung. It made him feel uncomfortable that there was a possibility Jaehyun could actually be nice to him.

When Doyoung didn’t respond, Jaehyun sighed a “See you in Alchemy”, before turning on his heel and leaving the library, much to the relief of the librarian. And Doyoung’s heart.

Kun was the first to speak after Jaehyun’s departure. “What just happened?”

Taeyong and Taeil looked equally as confused, nodding in agreement with Kun’s question. Doyoung finally drew his eyes from his homework, glancing at the apple beside him. It didn’t look charmed.

“I have no idea,” Doyoung sighed, feeling just as perplexed as his friends looked. After a few more moments of confused silence, the four boys got back to work. For half an hour, the apple sat there untouched. Kun, Taeil and Taeyong all left after that, too tired to continue, leaving Doyoung behind. It wasn’t until he’d made sure that his friends were gone that Doyoung picked up the apple, hesitating for only a moment before taking a bite.

It tasted sweet on Doyoung’s tongue.

**_three months later_ **

Hours after Taeyong had witnessed Jungwoo and Yukhei’s whatever that was, he had deemed it safe to return to the common room. That was where he was sitting when Sicheng walked through the door, cheeks flushed and hair dishevelled, like he’d been caught in a particularly strong gust of wind.

“Hey,” the younger boy greeted, looking surprised to have found someone awake at such a late hour.

“I’m not going to bother asking why you’re finishing your Prefect duties early. No need to look so panicked,” Taeyong comforted, taking an audible sip from his mug. He almost laughed at the way Sicheng’s shoulders dropped as he let out a sigh of relief.

“Ooh, what kind of tea have you got,” Sicheng wondered aloud, eyeing the head boy’s baby pink mug.

“It’s not tea,” Taeyong replied, taking another pointed sip. His eyes scrunched a little as heat tickled the back of his throat.

Sicheng frowned. “What is it then?”

“Firewhiskey,” Taeyong confessed, not even bothering to come up with a lie. He’d been through too much that day, he didn’t need the additional stress of concocting a story.

Sicheng barely reacted other than letting out an amused laugh. “Why’re you drinking it out of a mug?”

“To make me feel better about drinking it at all,” Taeyong admitted, frowning down at the amber liquid. As head boy he should be setting an example for other students, but here he was participating in an act that was most definitely against school rules.

“Do you?” Sicheng asked, a sympathetic smile on his kind face. “Do you feel better?”

“No, not really.”

“Can I have some?”

Taeyong downed the rest of his drink. He was going to need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading, i really hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
> comments and kudos are always appreciated :)  
> (also sorry for the lack of johnten in this chapter, they'll be back soon!)


	4. love in the air

“Merlin, what happened to you?” Ten exclaimed upon entering the Slytherin common room, his eyes immediately drawn to the gaggle of young boys huddled around one of the couches. Jisung sat at the centre, eyes wide, face red and eyebrows… well, gone.

“The idiot only went and burned them off during Potions,” Jaemin snickered, ruffling his cousin’s hair fondly. Jisung grumbled and reached up to flatten his hair down in an attempt to hide his unusually smooth forehead whilst the other boys, including Ten, burst out laughing.

“Will he still be okay to play tomorrow?” the elder Slytherin snorted, picking up a Chocoball from the table and popping it into his mouth, ignoring the squeak of protest from a rather miffed Donghyuck.

“He lost his eyebrows, not a limb,” Yuta scoffed, appearing through the entrance to the common room clad in mud splattered Quidditch gear. “He’ll be fine. Won’t you, Sungie?”

The younger boy nodded mutely with his hand plastering his hair to his forehead, refusing to budge it even when Jaemin collapsed on top of him with a mirthful grin.

“What about you, Jaemin?” Ten asked through a mouthful of chocolate and cream. “You think you’re up to playing?”

The grin faded from Jaemin’s face as he rested his head in Jisung’s lap. Almost a year had passed since the last time Jaemin had played in an official Quidditch game, and no one, not even Renjun, had been brave enough to bring up what had happened that day. Ten obviously hadn’t received the memo, but he got the general message loud and clear when everyone in the room turned to glare at him with barely concealed panic in their eyes.

“As long as no one releases a fleet of hexed Bludgers mid-game, I think I’ll be fine,” Jaemin laughed, surprising the other boys in the room with his nonchalance.

For months they had fussed over Jaemin, barely leaving his side to eat or even sleep. Not long after Jaemin’s recovery, his friends then began to worry about his return to Quidditch even though the chaser seemed to be fine. At first Ten had thought their actions somewhat excessive, but after imagining Johnny in Jaemin’s position, he found himself hard pressed to make fun of Donghyuck, Renjun and even Jisung who had been nothing more than a wide-eyed third year when his cousin was knocked off his broom by a particularly nasty bludger.

The very next day marked the beginning of Quidditch season with the highly awaited Gryffindor versus Slytherin game, and Ten couldn’t exactly blame his younger housemates for feeling anxious. Even after the initial vicious rivalry died out, it was well known around Hogwarts how competitive these games could get, Jaemin’s injury the previous year being proof of it. Ten hoped that with people like Yuta and Johnny as team captains, the game would remain clean and void of any foul play, but then again, Quidditch was Quidditch.

“Good luck tomorrow!” Ten announced with an optimistic smile, lifting yet another stolen Chocoball into his mouth (Donghyuck didn’t notice this time) before making his way out of the common room.

“We won’t need it,” Yuta called after him, but the tremor in his voice betrayed his nerves. Ten shot an amused grin over his shoulder before walking out the door.

There was someone else he wanted to wish luck. Ten wasn’t entirely sure who needed it more.

*******

It was the morning of the big game and Donghyuck didn’t feel nearly as confident as he thought he would. Or maybe he was just tired. It was only a little after seven, after all.

After eyeing the Gryffindor team for a little longer, Donghyuck came to the conclusion that he wasn’t actually that tired – it was definitely nerves that were making him feel jittery as he spooned slightly too-sweet porridge into his mouth.

You see, over the years of playing against Gryffindor, Donghyuck had devised a method.

As it turned out, gauging the mood of your opponents before a game was actually quite beneficial in predicting who would win, and who better to examine than his fellow seeker? It had taken several months of furious studying (in other words, staring at Mark’s face) for Donghyuck to deduce that, should the Gryffindor seeker walk into the Great Hall with a smile on his face, he was probably rather nervous, which in turn meant that Donghyuck was not. On the other hand, if Mark sat down to breakfast with a frown marring his brow, it meant that he was concentrated and ready for the game ahead and Donghyuck’s throat always seemed to grow dryer on those mornings.

The reason that Donghyuck was so nervous on this particular morning was because Mark was neither smiling or frowning. In fact, the expression on Mark’s face was one that Donghyuck couldn’t read, and that made him more nervous than anything else – even the prospect of losing.

Ever since their argument in the locker room, Donghyuck’s interactions with Mark had been minimal to say the least. It wasn’t unusual for them to get into arguments over Quidditch, but what  _ was _ unusual was the way Mark seemed to be ignoring Donghyuck out with the pitch. They no longer caught eyes at mealtimes, no matter how long Donghyuck spent gazing at the Gryffindor table. Even in Potions, where they sat next to each other, Mark barely took any notice of Donghyuck’s running commentary on Yangyang’s inability to successfully brew a single one. For days, Mark had seemed to drift further and further away until Donghyuck started to worry that he had said something to really upset the older boy. Even if they were Quidditch rivals, and even if Donghyuck had an obvious crush on Mark the size of a mountain troll, they were friends before anything else.

Donghyuck blamed this train of thought – that he’d hurt Mark – for his impulsiveness. He had barely touched his porridge, too busy keeping his eyes trained on the older boy, when Mark suddenly sat down the slice of toast he’d been nibbling on and slid out of his seat. Ignoring the protests from his teammates, Donghyuck got out of his own seat and hurried to follow Mark out of the hall.

“Mark!” he shouted after the older boy, who was now exiting through the grand doors. “Mark Lee!”

Donghyuck could tell that Mark had heard him by the way his shoulders tensed and his fists clenched, but he showed no sign of stopping to speak to Donghyuck. The Slytherin felt his blood run cold when he realised that Mark really  _ was _ ignoring him.

“Hey, Mark Lee!” Donghyuck called out again, his voice weaker this time. He felt his resolve crumble as Mark continued down the hallway, not once stumbling or looking back.

Fine then. If Mark was going to act like Donghyuck didn’t exist, he’d just have to do something to draw his attention.

Donghyuck needed to catch the Golden Snitch. Donghyuck needed to win.

*******

“Do you notice anything different about me?” Jeno asked as he, Jungwoo, Doyoung and Taeil trampled down towards the quidditch pitch. He could already hear the loud chatter of their fellow students in the stands awaiting the biggest game of the season.

“You trimmed your toenails, didn’t you!” Jungwoo exclaimed excitedly, causing the three other boys to stare at him with unadulterated confusion. For a split second, Doyoung’s eyes flickered to Jeno’s feet before he seemed to catch himself in the act and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation.

“Wha- Woo, you can’t even see my feet?” Jeno frowned bewilderedly, looking down at the shiny, black shoes his mother had bought him for the new school year. His frown deepened when he noticed the mud caked to their soles – she wouldn’t be very happy about that.

“I thought I sensed something about toes,” Jungwoo sighed in defeat, as if that explained any of his friend’s questions.

“You’re taking this interest in Divination really seriously,” Taeil laughed, patting Jungwoo’s shoulder comfortingly as the Hufflepuff pouted.

“Professor Yuri really had me convinced that my predictions were getting more accurate,” Jungwoo whined, leaning his head on Taeil’s shoulder despite the elder’s much shorter stature. Jeno could almost feel a crick forming in his own neck as he looked at the uncomfortable angle of Jungwoo’s. Suddenly, Jungwoo’s eyes brightened and he whipped his head back up again.

“Did you trim Napoleon’s toenails?”

All three boys let out a simultaneous sigh.

“Woo, Napoleon doesn’t have toenails,” Jeno explained calmly, reaching into his pocket to find the little bugger. “He’s a toad.”

A loud croak sounded from somewhere in Jeno’s robes before something small and green jumped into his hands. 

“See?” he clarified, brandishing the tiny creature near Jungwoo’s face for inspection, who squinted at Napoleon’s tiny feet for a few seconds before simply nodding.

“I see,” Jungwoo smiled, and Jeno’s shoulder’s deflated in relief – too soon. “ _ You _ didn’t do anything to his toenails, but I’m certain that Napoleon did.”

The resounding groan of frustration that Jeno, Doyoung and even Taeil let out could probably be heard back at the castle.

Jeno hoped that he hadn’t put in all this effort just for it to go unnoticed.

*******

“Jaemin!” Donghyuck hissed from where he was perched on his broom, mere feet away from his friend. “The game’s about to start. Stop staring at him. It’s creepy. I don’t even know how you can tell it’s him from all the way up here.”

“He’s got green paint on his face,” Jaemin breathed in amazement, his eyes fixated on the tiny, blonde figure of Jeno sitting down in the stands. Most people in Jaemin’s position would barely be able to pick their own friends out in such a crowd, but Jaemin was different. Jaemin had a crush. Jaemin was quite possibly in love. With Jeno. Who had come to watch the game –  _ Jaemin’s  _ game – with green paint striped on his cheeks.

Jaemin had lied. Bludgers weren’t the only thing posing a threat to his life. One look at Jeno and his heart felt about ready to pound out of his chest and be thrown about as an extra ball during the game.

“He’s what?” Donghyuck asked, squinting into the crowd but giving up after a little less than a second.

“He’s got green paint on his face,” Jaemin repeated, not sure if he was answering Donghyuck’s question or reassuring himself that this was actually happening. He could feel a gleeful smile threatening to split his face in half.

“Donghyuck, he’s got green paint on his face!” Jaemin laughed as he turned to face his friend, whose look of confusion quickly turned to one of understanding.

“Merlin, you’re both absolutely nauseating,” Donghyuck snickered with a shake of his head.

“No worse than you and Mark,” Jaemin defended, but immediately regretted it when he saw the amusement drain from Donghyuck’s face, his smile falling and the grip on his broom tightening until his knuckles were white. An apology was on the tip of Jaemin’s tongue when Yuta’s voice interrupted, cutting like glass through the loud cheers and shouts of the crowd below.

“Na! Lee! Get your arses over here before I hex you both!”

Jaemin shot Donghyuck an apologetic smile, one which the elder just barely returned, before they sped off towards their team captain who was looking much antsier than he had at breakfast.

“What’s the problem?” Jaemin asked, taking notice of the way Yuta nervously chewed at his lower lip. Beside him, Donghyuck tensed, resolutely keeping his eyes on their captain. Jaemin wasn’t sure what the problem was until he noticed Mark Lee clad in deep burgundy and with a serious look on his face hovering a few feet away. He wasn’t sure what had happened after Donghyuck followed Mark out of the Great Hall that morning, but Jaemin knew it couldn’t have been good.

“It’s Jisung,” Yuta muttered, glancing down at the pitch where Jaemin’s younger cousin stood. “He’s refusing to play.”

“What?” Jaemin and Donghyuck exclaimed simultaneously, incredulous frowns on their faces.

“It’s his eyebrows – or lack thereof,” Yuta explained with a roll of his eyes. “The spell he used to grow them back isn’t working and now he’s refusing to play.”

“He couldn’t have said this any sooner?” Donghyuck whined, gesturing to the stands filled to the brim with students and the pitch full of Quidditch players.

“I guess he was just too embarrassed, the idiot,” Yuta snorted, but Jaemin could tell he was frustrated.

“Well, do you have a plan?” Donghyuck pleaded, looking a little jittery on his broom. Yuta seemed to deflate at the question.

“Yeah,” he nodded, but his face was solemn. Jaemin’s eyes widened and he immediately turned to face Donghyuck whose expression mirrored his own: shock, surprise and horror. Mostly horror.

“No,” Jaemin breathed as he felt his soul leave his body. “You don’t mean…”

Yuta nodded again and Donghyuck let out a pained whine.

He had actually lied twice the day before. Not only was death a potential outcome, but Jaemin was incredibly nervous about this game. Who wouldn’t be after the accident he experienced the year prior? But now, Jaemin’s anxiety felt like it had increased tenfold. Contrary to popular belief, whilst the Bludger mishap  _ had _ been due to a competitive game, it wasn’t caused by the opposition. In fact, one of Jaemin’s very own teammates had been the cause of his injury. Obviously, the player was suspended from the team for his mistake, but he was never actually kicked out. Should one of the current team players be unable to partake in a game for whatever reason (fuck Jisung and his bald forehead), said suspended player could take over.

Suddenly, all the joy Jaemin had experienced after seeing Jeno seeped out of his body as a familiar figure hopped onto a broom and began to swirl into the sky.

This was it. Jaemin was going to die.

*******

“…And – making a return to the Slytherin team after a not entirely undeserved hiatus – Yangyang Liu!”

Ten’s voice boomed enthusiastically into the mic, rattling Mark’s brain as it echoed through the pitch. Did he hear that right? Yangyang was back on the Slytherin team? After knocking Jaemin off his broom with a miscalculated Bludger? Was this legal?

“Yeah, I’m just as surprised as you are,” Yukhei laughed, hovering on his broom beside Mark. “I thought he’d been kicked off the team for what he did to Jaemin, but I guess not.”

“It’s Jaemin’s first game back, too,” Jaehyun added, having flown down from his position in front of the hoops to join in the conversation. “Mark, you better catch that snitch quick – the less time with Yangyang in the sky, the better.”

“No pressure then,” Mark muttered sarcastically, but he sat straighter on his broom, held on tighter. 

He could see Jaemin hovering in the sky further down the pitch, a grimace on his face as he watched Yangyang floating about with his bat in hand. In fact, the entire Slytherin team were looking pretty miserable, Donghyuck included. Mark suddenly felt a jab of guilt in his stomach as he watched the other Seeker, his eyes following each and every one of Donghyuck’s moves. Despite the worry etched on his face, the Slytherin looked determined too, like he had something to prove. It had been a while since he’d seen Donghyuck look so serious before a game – it had been a while since he’d seen Donghyuck look so serious at all. It was probably his fault. Something niggled at the back of his brain, telling him he was wrong for ignoring Donghyuck, but his heart was louder. It hurt. The way Donghyuck had yelled at him the week before had hurt. He hadn’t thought he was doing anything wrong when he pulled away from the Snitch, but it had hurt Donghyuck.  _ He _ had hurt Donghyuck.

Mark had thought about apologising, but one look at Donghyuck’s beautiful face across the Great Hall and he had chickened out. Sometimes he wondered why the Sorting Hat had put him in Gryffindor when he was such a coward at times, but he couldn’t tell Donghyuck that he was intimidated by him, so Mark did what he always did when he didn’t know how to face a problem: he ignored it.

Mark’s attention was brought back to reality as Jaehyun returned to his position as Keeper in a flutter of red robes. The air on the pitch felt thick with tension despite the low temperature and the icy autumn mist, and for a moment it seemed as though the crowd went still and quiet, the silence resounding in Mark’s ears in the most deafening of ways.

The whistle blew and the game began.

*******

Donghyuck was sweating. It was cold and he had barely moved, but he was sweating. He felt restless as he watched the game play out tediously in front of him, the Quaffle passing between players but never actually going through the hoops. Slytherin had scored once and Gryffindor twice, but that was the extent of the game’s excitement. It was exhausting to watch and Donghyuck’s patience was wearing thin. Even with Ten’s commentary and Yangyang’s chaotic presence, Donghyuck felt himself itching to move.

Where on earth was the Snitch?

On the opposite end of the pitch, Mark seemed to be in a similar position, his body hanging tiredly on his broom as he floated above the rest of the players, but his eyes were wide and alert as they flickered around the pitch in search of that familiar glint of gold.

It was official: this had to be the slowest game of quidditch in the history of the sport. Even Ten’s commentary was coming to a halt, uncharacteristically having run out of ways to compliment Johnny. Honestly, if they didn’t want the whole castle to think they were dating, they were doing a really terrible job at quelling the rumours.

Donghyuck felt a gust of wind brush against his cheek, but it was just Jaemin swooping by with the Quaffle in hand, a Gryffindor Chaser fast on his heels before a Bludger nearly knocked her off course. Maybe Yangyang wasn’t a terrible Beater after all. Donghyuck was still wary about having him on the team, but only because of the younger boy’s carelessness last year. Watching Jaemin being thrown off his broom with such force had been terrifying to say the least, but seeing his friend incapacitated for months afterwards had almost been worse. As it turned out, there was only so much magic could do to heal a person.

For the most part, Jaemin seemed to be handling being back on the team well, but every so often Donghyuck noticed the way he would warily watch Yangyang whenever he got a little too close for comfort.

“Aaaand we’re back in business, ladies, gents and magic-folk!” Ten cried as Hyunjin’s Quaffle flew past Jaehyun and through the largest hoop, scoring them enough points to be neck-and-neck with Gryffindor.

Now, where was the damn Snitch?

As if summoned by Donghyuck himself, his eyes caught sight of something glinting in the mid-autumn sun, taunting and goading him with its glittering wings.  _ Fucking finally _ . Donghyuck barely glanced in Mark’s direction before swooping towards the Snitch, hands already eager to have it in his grasp. The students filling the stands let out loud cheers and screams of support as Donghyuck sped past them, not once letting the Golden Snitch out of his sight.

It was as though Hyunjin’s goal had restarted the game because it wasn’t long before Ten was announcing yet another goal, only on Gryffindor’s part this time. In his peripheral vision, Donghyuck could see Mark’s robes fluttering in the wind, but he was still a little way behind the Slytherin Seeker. Nonetheless, Donghyuck continued to fly after his target, never slowing down, never faltering.

It reminded Donghyuck of the first game he had played against Mark, back when he was new to the team and spent the hour beforehand pacing nervously around the locker room until Yuta smacked him with his broom and told him to stop making everyone else so anxious. They had barely known each other back then, but Donghyuck and Mark acted like old rivals as soon as they were in the air, their competitive smirks never wavering, even as they sped towards the Golden Snitch so fast that they became nothing more than green and red blurs in the sky. Mark had been the one to catch the Snitch that day, but Donghyuck couldn’t find it in himself to be upset because of how impressed he was by the Gryffindor’s talent. He supposed that was the day his crush started, but it took a few months of unconscious pining for Donghyuck to realise that he would much rather have Mark Lee as his boyfriend than as his rival. Unfortunately, the universe had it out for Donghyuck (he thought it was karma for the time he helped Jaemin sneak frogspawn into Jisung’s pumpkin juice last Halloween) because the very opposite of what he wanted had become his reality – most notably in the past week, what with Mark ignoring him and all.

So, as Donghyuck chased after the Snitch, inching closer and closer as the crowd’s screams grew louder and louder, Donghyuck made a decision. He needed to win. If Mark saw him as nothing more than a rival, then Donghyuck would become one. He had spent years moping pathetically over Mark’s lack of response to his flirting and blatant staring. He had spent years enduring his friend’s teasing every time Mark so much as breathed near him. He had spent years yearning for Mark Lee to be his. Enough was enough. It was clear that Mark had no interest in him. It wasn’t fair on himself – or Mark – to keep chasing after something that could never be his. Donghyuck needed to get over Mark Lee, and he was going to start by winning this game.

It all happened so fast.

One moment, Donghyuck was reaching out towards the Snitch as he loomed down towards the pitch, the next he was being knocked off his broom in a flurry of robes. He could hardly hear anything as wind rushed in his ears, the shocked gasps from the crowd scarcely audible amidst its whistling. His emerald robes seemed to be everywhere, blocking out everything as he tumbled to the ground like the thick foliage of a forest carpeting the sky. With a resounding thud, Donghyuck landed on the surprisingly solid grass, eyes screwed shut in pain as he let out a winded wheeze.

Ow.

“Hyuck! Hyuck! Are you okay?”

Mark Lee?

Donghyuck opened his eyes, only to be faced with a huddle of people who all looked a little blurry around the edges. Surprisingly, at the forefront of them all, was Mark, his handsome face curled into a worried frown. Donghyuck squinted up at him, his back and head (and pretty much the rest of his body) throbbing with a simmering pain.

“Hyuck, are you hurt?” Mark asked insistently, crouching down until his face was mere inches from Donghyuck’s. If this had been any other occasion, Donghyuck would probably be a blushing, stuttering mess, but he was currently sprawled on the grass, surrounded by two entire Quidditch teams, all of which was being watched by the rest of the school. Not the most romantic of situations. Suddenly, Donghyuck’s plan to get over Mark seemed quite far-fetched.

“I just fell off my broom, Mark Lee. Of course it fucking hurts,” Donghyuck laughed before thinking better of it when a sharp pain shot up his side. Why did his ribs hurt too?

“Fucking Yangyang,” Mark muttered before turning around to face the rest of the players. A few feet away, Jaemin and Yuta seemed to be having a heated conversation with a rather sheepish looking Yangyang. Putting two and two together, Donghyuck let out another groan, one of frustration rather than pain. If Jisung’s eyebrows didn’t grow back before the next game, Donghyuck was going to shave that boy’s head too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait between this chapter and the last - I hit a bit of writers block with this fic, but I've managed to get some inspo back!
> 
> I also planned on making this chapter longer but it didn't fit with the length of the other chapters, hence why this is part one.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading. thank u and stay safe :) x


	5. and history repeats itself

“Mate, I really am sorry! I’ll literally hold your head up with my own hands for an entire month if you want me to!”

“Um,” Donghyuck frowned, his face scrunching up in vague disgust. “Why would I want you to do that? I already have a neck brace.”

Ever since Donghyuck had been carted off to the hospital wing, Yangyang had been hovering by his bedside, offering his assistance and begging for forgiveness. Donghyuck wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to give into either.

“I don’t know,” Yangyang shrugged meekly, “I just thought you could use the help.”

“Well, you could start off by promising to never touch a broom again,” Jaemin snapped angrily from where he stood on the opposite side of Donghyuck’s bed. He’d been sending Yangyang threatening glares from the moment Donghyuck had been knocked off his broom, not that anyone was blaming him.

The Slytherin Beater cowered under Jaemin’s withering scowl, as though he were struggling to stop his entire body from shrivelling in on itself.

“It really was an accident,” he whined quietly, looking genuinely upset. Donghyuck would’ve probably felt a lot worse for him if he wasn’t currently propped up in bed with an ugly neck brace supporting his head.

Madam Bae had managed to help with the pain from the fall, but the healing process was going to take a little longer than Donghyuck would’ve liked. Apparently being thrown off your broom by a Bludger and landing on your back could be quite debilitatingly painful. Who would’ve thought? Sometimes Donghyuck wondered what all those magical doctors were doing with their time if he was being forced to look like a sad, little puppy post ear surgery for the next few weeks.

“I do think it would be best if you refrain from joining in with any further Quidditch activities, Mr Lui.”

The three boys turned to face their head of house who had suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. If Donghyuck didn’t know any better, he would have thought that Professor Byun had Apparated from his office. Maybe Donghyuck didn’t know any better. From what he’d heard, the professor hadn’t exactly been a model student during his own time at Hogwarts.

“Sorry, Professor! It won’t happen again,” Yangyang reassured desperately, pleading eyes flicking from Professor Byun, to Donghyuck, and very briefly to Jaemin, who still looked like he was on the precipice of a murderous rampage.

“I certainly hope so,” Professor Byun nodded, clapping Yangyang on the shoulder in a way that could have been construed as both comforting and a warning. Yangyang, seemingly understanding the message, gulped audibly, sent one last apology Donghyuck’s way, and bolted from the room.

Donghyuck hoped, for everyone’s sake, that the younger boy was running off to turn in his Quidditch robes. Or maybe not. Yuta wasn’t faring any better than Jaemin in the anger department. In fact, the team captain probably had a bounty out for Yangyang’s head by now, for both injuring his Seeker and ruining his chance at winning the game.

“How are we feeling, Mr Lee?” Professor Byun had a much more genuine smile on his face, his eyes filled with concern.

“If I hadn’t fallen several feet from the sky, then I would probably be doing a lot better,” Donghyuck answered, wincing when he breathed a little  _ too _ hard. Merlin, was this what life was going to be like from now on?

“I’m sure Mr Na here can sympathise with that,” Professor Byun smiled, although Donghyuck thought it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Jaemin had noticed too. “Is there something wrong, sir?”

It was as if someone had cast a charm on the professor, his tentative smile dropping almost immediately.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t just come to see how Mr Lee was doing,” he said, his mouth pulled into a grim line. “I also have some bad news to deliver.”

“Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse,” Donghyuck muttered under his breath, but if the way Professor Byun visibly grimaced was anything to go by, his comment hadn’t gone unheard.

“No one else got hurt, did they?” Jaemin suddenly asked, probably worried about his little shit of a cousin. Donghyuck currently did not feel inclined to worry about Jisung Park. Technically, this was all his fault.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Professor Byun assured them, before scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He seemed hesitant to tell the two boys what the problem was, and Donghyuck felt a twang of pain pinch his back as he strained to remain still.

“I’m really sorry to tell you boys this, but… you lost the match.”

“What do you mean we lost?” Jaemin frowned, sounding just as confused as Donghyuck felt (although that was probably partially down to the potion Madam Bae had forced down his throat). “No one even caught the Snitch. It was a draw, wasn’t it?”

“Er, not quite,” Professor Byun said helplessly, glancing nervously around the room in search of someone -  _ anyone  _ \- to bear witness should this whole thing go awry.

“No offense Professor, but I think you're going to give me a brain aneurysm on top of my existing injuries,” Donghyuck whined impatiently, letting out another pained hiss.

The older man let out a resigned sigh.

“Gryffindor won. Mark Lee caught the Snitch,” he finally admitted, looking very much like a scared first year rather than a seasoned teacher.

The air in the infirmary was still. No one moved a muscle (not that Donghyuck could have even if he wanted to) and no one said a word. Professor Byun’s voice echoed and Donghyuck’s ears felt like they were ringing.

“…”

“WHAT?”

*******

The Three Broomsticks buzzed with the chatter of excited students as well as the occasional scream from Merlin knows who (Johnny suspected that some of the younger students had managed to sneak in). The air smelt warm and sweet like butterbeer, and a fire crackled gently in the hearth, one that was charmed to spark red and gold in honour of the winning team. Johnny was slumped in a booth along with Jaehyun and Yukhei, all three of them clutching butterbeers as they revelled in the glory of their title as the winners of the first Quidditch game of the season after (just barely) beating Slytherin.

Unbeknownst to pretty much the entire Quidditch pitch, Mark had caught the Snitch just as Donghyuck fell off his broom. It wasn’t until he had made sure that Donghyuck was in safe hands that he had quietly admitted to Johnny that he was clutching the Golden Snitch in his hand, who then told one of the teachers, who then told Ten, who then told the entire population of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

“I still can’t believe we won,” Yukhei laughed for the fifth time since the group had commandeered their booth.

“Really?” Jaehyun snorted sarcastically. “You’ve only said it so many times that I thought you would have surely started believing yourself by now.”

“Let the man enjoy his victory, Jae,” Johnny butted in, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Just because you’re acting all pissy today doesn’t mean everyone else has to.”

“I am not acting all pissy,” Jaehyun mumbled, offended by his friend’s accusation.

Both Johnny and Yukhei stared at him blankly.

“Okay, so maybe I’m a little  _ irritated _ ,” he digressed sheepishly, hiding behind his pint of butterbeer as he took a sip.

“Was it the game?” Yukhei asked, wide eyed and innocent. “I mean, Hyunjin was, like,  _ really _ good today.”

“Nah, it’s not Quidditch. Not this time,” Johnny said, jumping in before Jaehyun could get a word out. “He’s all upset that his future husband hasn’t been paying attention to him.”

“You’re engaged?” Yukhei exclaimed, sounding equally as excited as he did appalled.

“What?  _ No _ ,” Jaehyun snorted into his drink, nearly spraying half of it across the table. “I’m seventeen, Yukhei.”

Yukhei simply shrugged, not looking entirely convinced as he picked up his own butterbeer. Just as Johnny was about to make another comment about Jaehyun’s prefect problem, a familiar head of dark hair appeared, weaving through the students huddled around tables and crowded around the bar. Already, Johnny could feel a pleased smile spreading across his face, a familiar warmth spreading through his veins.

“Speaking of future husbands,” Jaehyun murmured into his drink with a smirk, one that Johnny chose to ignore in favour of directing his smile at a vaguely flustered Ten, who emerged from the sea of students with flushed cheeks and a drink in each hand.

“Shouldn’t you be back at the castle moping with the rest of your house and helping look after your fallen soldier?” Jaehyun teased as Ten approached their booth, sitting the drinks onto the table with a dull thud before sliding into the vacant space beside Johnny.

“It’s not as if Donghyuck’s dying, he just hurt his neck. And his back. And possibly every other part of his body, but he’ll live,” Ten sighed tiredly, sliding one of the pints towards Johnny who took it with a grateful squeeze of Ten’s knee.

“Go get your own,” Ten declared when Yukhei sent him a hopeful look, eyeing the drink he had just handed Johnny.

“But we won the match,” Yukhei pouted sadly, swirling the last dregs of butterbeer in his glass.

“No,  _ Mark _ won the match,” Ten corrected, taking a sip of his own drink (which looked a little stronger than butterbeer) and letting out a happy, satisfied hum. “Even then, I probably wouldn’t have gotten him a drink either.”

Johnny let out an amused snort and affectionately ruffled Ten’s hair, who didn’t even bother swatting the older boy’s hand away like he would have if anyone else had done the same. It was a well-known fact that Ten took a lot of pride in his appearance, his hair included. Jaehyun watched on in wonder, amazed that his two best friends were so obvious yet so  _ oblivious _ at the same time.

“Where  _ is _ Mark anyway?” Yukhei asked, craning his neck to see if he could find their team’s victor amidst the crowd of Hogwarts students filling the pub.

“Probably with Donghyuck,” Johnny replied, his arm now resting comfortably around Ten’s shoulders. It was something he had been doing since they were children, even during that dark period of Johnny’s life where Ten had been the taller of the two, so much so, that it was now a habit more than a conscious action.

“Did they not, like, fall out or something,” Jaehyun commented, recalling how Mark had barely glanced at the Slytherin table for at least a week, which was something he hadn’t really noticed the younger boy had been doing until he stopped altogether.

“I don’t know, man. Maybe?” Yukhei wondered, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Mark’s been acting kind of weird lately. Like, he keeps talking to himself at night. I can’t tell if he’s sleep talking, or if he just thinks that no one can hear him.” He paused for a moment, scratching his chin. “I’m actually kind of worried.”

Ten laughed fondly at Yukhei’s concern for his friend. Mark was lucky.

“Maybe he’s just stressed?” the Slytherin suggested, raising one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows. “I mean, you’ll both be studying for your O.W.Ls soon, won’t you? He could just be, like, pre-stressed.”

Yukhei frowned, but seemed to accept Ten’s explanation, happily sipping on his drink instead.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Johnny added, sending Yukhei a reassuring smile.

*******

Mark was not fine.

His hands were sweating, and his heart was pounding, and his legs felt a little wobbly. He couldn’t tell if it was post-game exhaustion, a fever, or the thought of possibly being killed by a furious Lee Donghyuck. Mark was undecided, but he thought that option three was pretty likely.

He had been hovering outside the doors of the hospital wing for so long that he was probably beginning to look rather suspicious to the portraits hanging on the walls. The nondescript box in his hands probably wasn’t helping either, and Mark was sure that if he didn’t make up his mind in the next few minutes he would lose his nerve altogether under the gaze of the beady, painted eyes of some wrinkled, old man he didn’t recognise.

Just as he was considering leaving, going back to his dorm and living as a hermit for the foreseeable future, the door opened and Madam Bae’s face appeared, startling Mark so much that he almost dropped the box.

“If you’re planning on coming in anytime soon, Mr Lee, I’d recommend doing it soon,” she advised, her voice light with thinly veiled amusement. Mark felt his cheeks flush, embarrassed. He hadn’t realised anyone could see him. “I’ve just given him something for the pain, so you’ll probably make it out unharmed.”

Mark blinked back at her, wide eyed and dumbstruck.

“Well?” Madam Bae urged, holding the door open. “Aren’t you coming in? You  _ are _ here to see Donghyuck, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded, nervously clutching the box in his slippery hands. Why had it gotten so hot all of a sudden? Why was his facing burning so much? Why did it feel like his heart was pounding in his left ear? Maybe he really did have a fever.

With an exasperated sigh, Madam Bae turned around and marched back inside the hospital wing, not sparing Mark a single glance as he followed behind her on wobbly legs.

As she led him closer and closer towards Donghyuck’s bed, he felt the pit of guilt in his stomach rear its ugly head. Donghyuck probably hated him now, even more than he had before the match. Mark should’ve just pretended that he hadn’t caught the Snitch. It really didn’t matter if Donghyuck had a crush on him at some point because Mark had certainly fumbled the bag with this one. Yeah, maybe he had let Donghyuck win during that one practice, but at least Donghyuck had left with some sense of victory, even if that had come from winning an argument with Mark more than anything else. This time, however, Donghyuck had walked away with a sprained neck and cracked ribs.

“He’s a bit groggy just now,” Madam Bae warned as they stopped outside the drawn curtains that hid Donghyuck’s bed. “Don’t be too alarmed if he falls asleep mid conversation.”

Mark just nodded nervously, because Donghyuck was on the other side of that curtain and he was, well, nervous.

With a final whispered “Good luck”, Madam Bae walked back to her office, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor echoing loudly in the silence. Feeling the furthest thing from confident, Mark took a shuddering breath before reaching out to slide the curtain back.

Donghyuck sat against the headboard looking rather sorry for himself, with an uncomfortable looking brace wrapped around his neck and a sad pout on his face.

“H-hi,” Mark coughed out as he slipped through the opening in the curtains. Donghyuck’s eyes flickered up, and he probably would have looked surprised if they weren’t so heavy and woozy from the effects of the healing potion.

“Mark!” Donghyuck grinned dopily, his frown disappearing when their eyes met. Mark stood still, momentarily stunned because this was not what he had expected. Why wasn’t Donghyuck shouting at him or throwing things or crying?

“Hey, Hyuck,” Mark greeted again, his voice slightly steadier. It didn’t look like Donghyuck was on the verge of homicide, so there was no need for him to cower in fear. Yet. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been thrown off a broom,” Donghyuck replied, his words slurring together slightly in a way Mark found just plain endearing. He couldn’t stop the charmed smile that crept onto his face as he looked at Donghyuck. The younger boy’s hair stuck up at odd angles and there was a little scratch marring the golden skin of his cheekbone, but Mark wasn’t sure he had ever seen anything so precious in all his life. He felt his cheeks warm at the thought and quickly cleared his throat.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said softly, earnest eyes fixed on Donghyuck’s sleepy face, who was only looking more and more exhausted by the second.

Donghyuck’s eyes fluttered, and Mark suddenly remembered Madam Bae’s warning. With slightly more haste than was probably necessary, he stalked over to Donghyuck’s bedside and brandished the box in the younger boy’s face.

“Woah,” Donghyuck exclaimed drowsily, his unfocused stare landing on the proffered object.

“I, uh, I got you something,” Mark said, stumbling over his words as he rested the box in Donghyuck’s lap.

“Whatisit?” the younger boy mumbled, wincing slightly. He leaned forward to get a better look before ultimately thinking better of it and sitting back against the bed again.

Mark scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as Donghyuck lifted the lid. “Johnny told me that Ten ate all of your chocolate the other day, so…”

He trailed off into an uncomfortably thick silence, unsure of what to do or say as Donghyuck stared at the huge box of Chocoballs. It had been expensive, especially since Mark had to get it delivered from Hogsmeade, but it was worth it. Suddenly, Donghyuck began to sniffle and even in the pale glow of the setting sun, Mark could see that his eyes were welling up with tears.

Mark started to panic.

“Um, shit, I’m sorry! Do you not like them? I-I can just give them all to Ten if you want? Or Yukhei – Merlin knows he’ll eat anything, edible or not. Or I cou-”

“Why are you like this?” Donghyuck sniffed, interrupting Mark’s frantic rambling and seeming much more alert than he had been mere seconds before.

“Like what?” Mark asked slowly, feeling somewhat affronted. He knew he was awkward and kind of bad at noticing social cues, especially when cute boys were involved, but he didn’t think his social awkwardness warranted an insult.

“So… so… so  _ perfect _ .”

Oh.

“ _ Oh _ .” Mark paused, his facial expression comparable to that of an owl caught in the incoming screech of the Hogwarts Express. His brain felt like it was malfunctioning and Mark was sure that if he didn’t figure out what to say in the next three seconds, it would surely explode.

“So, you don’t want me to give Ten the chocolate?”

Donghyuck fixed Mark with an incredulous glare despite how visibly exhausted he looked.

“I give up,” he sighed, his eyes slipping closed for what could’ve been a number of reasons, but Mark suspected it was a mixture of exhaustion and exasperation.

“Like, on life? Or…”

“Shut up, Mark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, i hope you enjoyed this chapter! sorry that the last few have been a little more markhyuck focused but i needed their story to progress a little to make way for the others. hopefully i'll have part three (the final part of chapter four) up in the next few days. thank you so much for reading! :) x


	6. how to be a heartbreaker

Jaemin wasn’t sure he had ever felt so lonely.

Well, that was probably a slight exaggeration, particularly due to the fact that he had spent most of his third year in the hospital wing, but Jaemin was a little more dramatic than most.

He had banished Yangyang to the opposite end of the table for obvious reasons (after a whispered threat that Jaemin could admit had maybe been a little too violent for a pre-dinner conversation), Donghyuck was resting in the hospital wing, and for some reason, Renjun had chosen today of all days to study in the library with his Ravenclaw friends (a place Jaemin had been all but banned from due to reasons he would rather not admit), leaving Jaemin to sulk pathetically into his lasagne. He had even passed Yuta on his way into the Great Hall, but the older Slytherin was too busy chasing after some uninterested Hufflepuff to even notice him.

Jisung sat a few seats down, a miserable pout on his face as Chenle comforted him, both younger boys doing everything in their power to avoid Jaemin’s reprimanding glare (the fact that he had promised to permanently remove Jisung’s eyebrows probably hadn’t helped either).

Now, Jaemin was alone, his lasagne was kind of crunchy, and the chatter of the other students was beginning to make his head hurt. Just as he contemplated leaving the rest of his food in favour of an early night, a plate clattered down on the table and someone appeared in the seat in front of him. Assuming that it was Renjun or Yangyang, Jaemin let out a loud, exasperated sigh and threw his fork onto his plate.

“What do you wa-”

It wasn’t Renjun, nor was it Yangyang. It wasn’t Jisung or Chenle, or even Yuta.

Jaemin watched, mouth agape, as Jeno slid into the seat across from him, a friendly grin and remnants of green paint on his face.

_ Cute _ .

“I, um, h-hi,” Jaemin stuttered uselessly, his brain failing to register what was happening in front of his own two eyes, struggling to give Jeno anything other than a vaguely pained grin.

“Hi,” Jeno smiled back, his voice steady and his smile far less homicidal looking than Jaemin’s. If it weren’t for the pink blush rising on his cheeks, Jaemin would’ve thought that the Hufflepuff was completely unfazed by this particular turn of events. “How’s Donghyuck doing?”

Jaemin didn’t know if he was grateful or disappointed by the familiar topic of conversation. On the one hand, it meant that he wouldn’t have to think too hard about trying to impress Jeno with clever jokes or witty quips because, even if Jaemin wasn’t the best of friends, he was hardly going to make fun of someone with a neck brace. On the other, it meant that Jaemin wouldn’t have a chance to try (and ultimately fail) to get Jeno to fall in love with him, accept a marriage proposal and eventually move in with him and their pet houseplants (because even for love, Jaemin wasn’t sure if he was willing to test the waters of his deepest fear).

“He’s alive,” Jaemin sniffed, moving to distract himself with another forkful of lasagne before eyeing the runny sauce and thinking better of it. It was an easy choice, deciding between blushing in front of Jeno or letting the Hufflepuff see him with tomato smeared across his face. His own face decided to choose for him anyway when Jeno let out a giggle, soft with endeared amusement, although Jaemin wasn’t sure who it was directed towards. Merlin, he hoped it was him rather than Donghyuck.

“That’s good! I’m glad he’s okay,” Jeno said with a gentle, fond look in his eyes, a kind of look that was almost too much for Jaemin to handle.  _ Almost _ .

“I mean, he’ll be stuck wearing a neck brace for a little while, but the only thing that really hurts is his bruised ego,” Jaemin added, abandoning his silent vow to never make fun of his injured friend, deciding Donghyuck deserved the karma for all of the times he had teased Jaemin for his hapless crush.

It seemed that Jaemin was far funnier than he could have ever comprehended because not two seconds after the words had left his mouth, Jeno was letting out yet another bout of bright laughter. A few students further down the table sent irritated glares in the Hufflepuff’s direction – glares which Jaemin returned with his own, tenfold the irritation. Jaemin may have been too scared to admit his feelings to Jeno, but he certainly never shied away from intimidating the rest of the student population. He knew he could be scary when he needed to.

“What about you?” Jeno asked, his voice still light with remaining laughter, but the draw of his brow told of his concern. His concern for Jaemin, who gripped his fork tightly whilst his face began to feel warmer by the second.

“What do you mean?” Jaemin coughed, feeling a little awkward as he remembered that fateful class from weeks before. “I’m fine.”

After the incident with the hippogriff, Jaemin had been given permission by Professor Byun to keep a distance from Care of Magical Creatures lessons for a little while. Apparently turning up at the hospital wing with a white face and a vaguely worried Jeno for support (both in the literal and moral sense) was enough to scare the head of Slytherin into approving Jaemin’s prior demands before scurrying off to his office – hopefully to create a new subject for Jaemin to take and inevitably fail.

Whilst the lack of terrifying creatures was all well and good, particularly for Jaemin’s nerves, there was one significant downside to missing out on Professor’s Zhang’s classes – no more Jeno. Well, that wasn’t strictly true as Jeno was very much still alive and attending Hogwarts, but to Jaemin it felt as though the Hufflepuff was on the other side of the planet with how few glimpses he caught of the other boy. Renjun’s teasing had only increased in the following weeks as Jaemin’s moping seemed to do the same, with the Slytherin spending most of his mealtimes sending longing glances across the hall that Donghyuck, crowned king of all Mopers, would be proud of.

“I was worried about you, you know.”

Jaemin had to hold onto his fork tighter or else it would have landed quite dramatically in the centre of his lasagne. Was this what lucid dreaming felt like? Everything seemed real, but Jaemin couldn’t help but wonder if there were any lasting effects from his Quidditch injury, and if so, was this one of them?

“Y-you were worried?” Jaemin choked as his face grew hotter. “A-about me?”

“Well, yeah,” Jeno snorted, but the blush on his own face was visibly beginning to darken. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Jaemin could think of several reasons why Jeno would not be worried about him, namely the very obvious, obnoxious crush he harboured for the Hufflepuff, or his inability to look an owl in the eye without breaking out into a nervous sweat, or maybe even his incapability to keep his younger cousin from permanently injuring himself. The list, to Jaemin, was practically endless, but with the way that Jeno was looking at him – all eye smiles and pink cheeks – Jaemin thought that maybe it didn’t matter.

So, instead of going off on some self-deprecating tangent, Jaemin simply shrugged and allowed his mouth to quirk up into a pleased smile.

“I’ll probably be sent back to Zhang’s class soon, but I can assure you that I’ll be fine. Until then, at least,” Jaemin joked, his laugh far less forced than he had anticipated. Jeno’s presence was strangely calming to Jaemin despite the way his face blushed and his heart pounded and his stomach swirled with a swarm of butterflies. In an attempt to quell the feeling, Jaemin reluctantly shoved a forkful of lasagne into his mouth, trying to avoid Jeno’s watchful eyes as he did.

Mid-chew, Jaemin noticed that Jeno’s plate was mostly untouched and drew his eyes to meet Jeno’s own, already watching Jaemin with a look that the younger boy couldn’t quite decipher.

“Is everything okay?” Jaemin asked, making sure to swallow his food before he spoke. “Do you not like your lasagne? I can’t really blame you for that one, it is pretty disgu-”

“Are you busy right now?” Jeno interrupted, although his voice was much gentler than it was probably supposed to be. Suddenly, Jaemin’s mind was filled with the image of an angry Jeno. Bad idea. He was sure that if he blushed any harder his head would burst into flames. Renjun would like that. Jaemin wasn’t willing to give his friend the satisfaction of witnessing such an event.

“Uh, what?” Jaemin stuttered, his body somewhat frozen as he sat with widened eyes, looking at Jeno with something akin to sheer bewilderment.

“Are you, like, free? Just now?” Jeno repeated, fiddling distractedly with his fork.

“Y-yeah, I guess,” Jaemin shrugged, attempting to come across as nonchalant, but managing to successfully drop his entire fork, handle and all, into his food. “I mean, I’m just sitting here with a bowl of depressingly bad lasagne, if you can call that busy.”

“Would you, uh, would you like to maybe meet someone?”

Jeno’s voice grew steadily unsure, as did Jaemin’s confusion.

“Meet someone? Now?” he asked incredulously, looking around the busy dining hall. He couldn’t imagine what kind of person would want to miss out on such a glorious meal - especially something as appetising as Jaemin’s lasagne.

“Uh, yeah,” Jeno nodded, not looking entirely sure of his own words. “Only if you want to, of course.”

“Okay, sure,” Jaemin decided, mainly due to how endearing he found the uncertainty in Jeno’s wide eyes. Or probably just because Jeno was the one asking in the first place. “I wasn’t planning on finishing this anyway.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Jeno agreed with a short laugh, wincing slightly as he sat his fork down, peering into his plate with barely concealed disgust. Not that Jaemin could blame him.

“So, you don’t like the lasagne?”

“No, Jaemin, I don’t like the lasagne. I doubt most animals would enjoy it.”

“Is that a fact? Did I miss a lesson about that?”

“Just come with me.”

And, like the pathetic, lovesick loser he was, Jaemin went.

***

Jaehyun should’ve known that visiting the Three Broomsticks with someone like Ten in tow (an encourager at the best of times, an enabler at worst) was probably not the brightest of ideas, but he had wanted to celebrate Gryffindor’s win, and he wasn’t going to let something silly like common sense get in the way of that. Now, several hours later, Jaehyun was beginning to regret his ignorance.

The sky was a dark, velvety black by the time Jaehyun, along with Johnny and Ten were stumbling their way back to the castle (Yukhei had abandoned them not long into their celebrations following a panicked look on his face and a strange, jumbled excuse about watering his cat, a cat Jaehyun knew the younger boy did not own). His feet slipped on the muddy slopes of grass as Jaehyun tried – and failed – to hush his friends, both of whom were hanging onto each other, faces disgustingly close as they giggled far too loudly for such a late hour.

“For the love of Merlin, can you both please just  _ shut up _ ,” Jaehyun hissed, stopping in his tracks as they neared the towering walls of Hogwarts, the windows of which glowed like fluttering fireflies against the endless canopy of the sky.

“Calm down, Jae,” Johnny laughed, although he had lowered the volume of his voice much to Jaehyun’s relief. “We’re not going to get caught. Nakamoto’s friend is supposed to be on patrol tonight, and I have it on good authority that he won’t be a problem for us.”

“You’re not telling me that poor Hufflepuff’s given up already?” Ten snorted, an amused grin spread across his face. “I was having so much fun watching Yuta squirm after every rejection.”

Jaehyun let out a small laugh despite himself, recalling breakfast that morning; poor Sicheng Dong practically running out of the Great Hall after being accosted by an overexcited Yuta, begging for a good luck kiss before his big game. As it turned out, the Slytherin probably got a slap to the face – maybe even a hex or two – rather than a kiss with the way the game had gone for Yuta’s team.

“Hey, I don’t know what you’re laughing at,” Ten scoffed, his eyes twinkling with mirth, cutting Jaehyun’s chuckle short.

“Yeah,” Johnny nodded, his own eyes growing frighteningly wide with realisation. “It’s not as though you’re any better.”

“What do you mea-” Jaehyun tried, but his words were quickly cut off by Ten, who wore a dangerous smirk on his smug face.

“Don’t think we didn’t notice you looking about the Broomsticks every two minutes with that little pout of yours on your face,” the Slytherin laughed, in only the most Slytherin of ways.

“I repeat,” Jaehyun groaned tiredly, even as ears grew hot with repressed embarrassment. “I have no idea as to what you are referring.”

“Merlin, Jae,” Johnny chortled, accidentally tugging Ten closer as he threw his head back to laugh. “No need to get all stroppy. It's not our fault Kim decided against gifting us with his presence this evening.”

Ten seemed to agree with his best friend, letting out an amused giggle as he stared up at Johnny like he was the one to hang the stars that littered the night sky. Jaehyun felt exhausted by Ten’s sheer obviousness, but he didn’t say a word, not willing to be the one to open that can of worms.

“You can’t have really expected him to turn up tonight,” Ten added, turning to face Jaehyun, who looked suitably like a kicked puppy. “Imagine! The Perfect Prefect at the Three Broomsticks!”

“But he was at the game,” Jaehyun pointed out, his brow curling into a thoughtful frown as he remembered spotting Doyoung’s head of dark hair amongst the crowd sitting in the Quidditch stands. It was a difficult moment for Jaehyun to forget because he had almost fallen off his broom before the game had even started, his heartbeat rising upon realising that the Ravenclaw would be able to see every one of his mistakes (because with nerves like Jaehyun’s he was sure to make at least a few).

“What?” Ten cried, looking like someone had just informed him that the Whomping Willow had developed a sense of autonomy and was walking around the grounds of Hogwarts on a murderous rampage.

Johnny sounded just as confused by this new piece of information, his voice disbelieving as he spoke. “He was?”

“I saw him there, with his Hufflepuff friends,” Jaehyun nodded vehemently, the curls on his head bouncing with the force of the movement.

“But Doyoung hates Quidditch?” Ten wondered aloud, sounding as though he was rethinking every piece of information he thought he knew about Doyoung Kim.

Now it was Jaehyun’s turn to be confused.

“What? I swear I’ve seen him at games before,” he frowned, recalling a vague memory from maybe a year before, one where Jaehyun had been in the sky and had locked eyes with a frightened looking Ravenclaw amidst the chaos of the watching crowd. It was a brief, dreamlike memory, the kind you weren’t really sure was real or not.

“Highly doubtful,” Ten snickered. “I’ve even overheard him complaining about how much he hates Quidditch games. He loathes the people and the noise, probably the sport too.”

“Jae, you were probably just seeing things,” Johnny sighed, a pitying smile on his face. Jaehyun was momentarily tempted to punch it off. “Wishful thinking and all that.

“But-”

“Look,” Johnny continued, ignoring Jaehyun’s attempt to get a word in. “We know you like Kim, god knows why-”

_ We _ this,  _ we _ that – were Johnny and Ten ever going to get their shit together and actually become a couple or was Jaehyun going to have to endure his friend’s weird pseudo-marriage for the rest of his school career?

“-but there comes a point where you just have to give up. You can’t wait on him forever,” Johnny finished with a tone of, well, finality.

Johnny was probably Jaehyun’s best friend (although Mark did have his moments), and because of that reason Jaehyun valued the older boy’s advice more often than not. This time, however, Jaehyun didn’t feel particularly inclined to accept it. Neither did Ten, it seemed.

“Give up?”

Jaehyun and Johnny both blinked in surprise. Ten had all but ripped himself from Johnny’s side and was fixing the elder boy with an appalled glare.

“Give up? Do you honestly think that’s the best thing to do? The  _ right  _ thing to do?”

“Um, I guess?” Johnny answered unsurely, his words slow as he struggled to think under Ten’s angry gaze, like his brain was trying to wade through water with every thought.

Jaehyun had seen Ten angry a number of times over the course of their friendship, but something about the fire in his eyes and the white-knuckled clench of his fists made Jaehyun realise that this was nothing like the other times. No. This time Ten wasn’t just angry. This time Ten was upset too. He was hurt by what Johnny had said, and Johnny - the big, stupid idiot - looked like he had been left stranded in the middle of the ocean without so much as a branch to keep him afloat.

“You guess?” Ten breathed, almost too quietly for Jaehyun to hear who was only a few metres ahead of his friends, but at this point he doubted that they were still talking about anything even remotely Doyoung related.

It was silent for a moment, the three of them standing still in the empty grounds of Hogwarts, none of them breathing a word. In fact, it was probably the quietest Jaehyun had ever seen Ten, whose eyes had never once left Johnny’s slouching frame.

“I’m just gonna…” Jaehyun muttered, breaking the thick tension that filled the air, motioning towards the castle as his feet began to shuffle away from his friends, neither of whom seemed to realise he had even said a thing, too caught up in their tense staring competition.

With one final sigh, Jaehyun turned on his heel and began to rush back towards the castle, leaving his friends behind, and hoping that he would be able to make it back to his dorm unscathed by the wrath of any of the teachers – or even worse, a prefect.

***

“Jaemin, meet Napoleon. Napoleon, meet Jaemin.”

Jaemin was astounded.

A toad. A fucking toad.

The “someone” Jeno had wanted him to meet was a toad.

Jaemin felt like throwing himself out of the nearest window.

“This is your best friend?” he asked warily, trying to hide the fear on his face as he eyed the slimy little creature resting proudly in Jeno’s palm.

“Yes, of course!” Jeno exclaimed cheerfully, grinning widely. “Isn’t he adorable.”

Adorable was probably the last word Jaemin would have used to describe Napoleon, he thought, trying his hardest not to wince when the toad’s little, green feet shuffled around Jeno’s hand. Jeno, on the other hand, looked the happiest Jaemin had ever seen him, his eyes glittering joyfully as he watched his so-called “best friend”. Jaemin couldn’t deny that he wasn’t the slightest bit jealous that the Hufflepuff’s attention was now completely enraptured by a slimy amphibian.

“Um, yeah,” Jaemin agreed hesitantly, trying to turn his grimace into a mildly less terrifying smile with all the strength he could muster after that tedious turned tragic game of Quidditch. It didn’t work. Jeno’s smiling eyes lifted from where Napoleon waddled quite happily around his hand to Jaemin’s face, only for his grin to fall like a drooping leather chair.

“You don’t like him,” Jeno said, as more of a statement than a question, his voice struggling to conceal his obvious disappointment. Jaemin felt his heart sink and his eyes go wide. He had fucked up. Merlin, he had fucked up big time. Jeno wasn’t smiling any more, and Jaemin began to panic. How on earth could he fix this?

“No, no!” Jaemin spluttered frantically, waving his hands around in a panic. “He’s… he’s really cute. Honestly.”

Jeno didn’t look convinced in the least. “Don’t lie to me Jaemin,” he huffed, his brows drawn together in a deep frown.

Jaemin opened his mouth, preparing to defend himself, but quickly cut himself off. It would be no use, lying to Jeno. His dishonesty would just make things worse - would just make Jeno feel like Jaemin couldn’t be trusted. Only earlier that morning, Jaemin had soared through the sky, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering wildly at the sight of Jeno wearing the Slytherin colours on his face. Now, everything had gone particularly pear shaped, and Jaemin didn’t really know what to do.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered, his body deflating under Jeno’s scrutinising stare. He now knew how Yangyang must have felt when Jaemin started casting death glares in his direction – not great, was the answer.

Jeno didn’t say anything, his mouth set in a grim line.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Jaemin tried, wishing upon all wishes that Jeno would just smile again, or at the very least, he would lose the offended glare. “I just… I’m not great with animals.”

This time, Jeno’s frown eased slightly, but he didn’t look anywhere near what Jaemin could describe as happy.

“I kind of figured that from Professor Zhang’s class, but I just thought that- never mind,” Jeno sighed tiredly, interrupting himself with an air of resignation. Without sparing Jaemin another glance, he cradled Napoleon in his hand before tucking the little toad somewhere in the depths of his robes.

“We could always try our introductions again at some point?” Jaemin offered uselessly, silently begging Jeno to look at him again with those eyes he was so fond of. Jeno didn’t.

“Yeah, maybe,” the Hufflepuff replied unenthusiastically, before lifting himself off the bench they were sat on and brushing some imaginary dust from his robes.

“Well,” Jeno announced with a tone of defeat, the kind that made Jaemin feel an awful lot like he was being broken up with, even if he and Jeno weren’t dating. At this point he was really beginning to doubt if they ever would. “I better get going. It’s getting rather late.”

Jaemin couldn’t do much else but nod silently, worried that his voice would sound too desperate if he spoke now.

“Goodnight, Jaemin,” was the last thing Jeno said before he started to make his way down the corridor, getting smaller and smaller until he was out of the Slytherin’s sight.

After a few more moments spent in morose silence, Jaemin had the dreadful thought that Jeno’s goodnight had sounded an awful lot like a goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, i hope you enjoyed the final part of chapter four!!  
> sorry it took me so long to update, i've been really busy recently and haven't had very much time to write so i apologise if this isn't my best work :(  
> i'm planning on the next chapter being a halloween special, which will hopefully be uploaded on halloween! 
> 
> thank you so much for reading! as always, kudos and comments are always appreciated :) <3


	7. kiss me, kill me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i just wanted to quickly apologise for the wait in between the last update and this one. uni kind of took over my life, but i will hopefully be back to writing a lot more now that i have finished the semester! this chapter is the first part of the halloween chapter i promised back in september (better late than never lol)
> 
> i'm not completely happy with the way this one turned out, but it's been a while since i've written anything for this fic so it took me some time to get used to it again. i don't really have an outline for this story so when writer's block hits, it hits hard. i will try to update with the next part soon, but for now please enjoy this one!! <3

Doyoung was having a terrible night.

This was easily the worst Halloween of his life. Even worse than that year a ghost had followed him around the entire day – even when he had to use the bathroom.

Doyoung was having a terrible night, and like most things that went wrong in his life, it was all Jaehyun’s fault. Well, perhaps not entirely, but at least eighty percent of this particular night’s events were down to Doyoung’s stupid decision to trust Jaehyun, which in Doyoung’s mind meant that Jaehyun was entirely to blame.

“I can’t believe you’ve locked us in here,” Ten groaned, slumping to the floor like a melting marshmallow.

“I can,” Doyoung muttered, turning to glare at Jaehyun who was looking terribly guilty, and rightfully so.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Jaehyun whined, flopping onto the floor beside Jeno in defeat.

“I didn’t think that you  _ meant _ for us to get trapped inside the Shrieking Shack on Halloween, but you’ve managed to do it anyway,” Doyoung grumbled, deciding not to sit because the floor looked disgustingly grubby. God knows who had been in here. Or what.

So yes, Doyoung was having a terrible night.

And it was only going to get worse.

**_several hours earlier_ **

Ten and Johnny had been best friends for a long time, longer than either of them had been friends with anyone else, and now that they were no longer on speaking terms Ten wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself. He had spent the days and weeks that followed their argument distracting himself with schoolwork and hanging out with Yuta and some of the younger Slytherins – avoiding Johnny, and by extension Jaehyun, Mark and Yukhei, at all costs – but now, Ten was growing restless.

He wished that their argument had been like previous ones; short lived and easily resolved, the kind that usually began over something inherently silly and ended soon after with silent apologies and quiet smiles. But it wasn’t. In fact, Ten was fairly certain that this was the worst argument he and Johnny had ever had with anyone, never mind each other.

It was his fault, really. If he hadn’t gotten so upset, if he hadn’t let his emotions get the better of him, if he hadn’t yelled at Johnny, hadn’t confused him so, then maybe everything would have ended up okay. Maybe things would have returned to normal.

All of the  _ what ifs _ didn’t really matter in the end, though, because Ten  _ had _ gotten upset, he  _ had _ allowed his emotions to control him and he had taken it all out on Johnny. He had taken it all out on his best friend.

He had taken it all out on the person he loved most.

It was all his fault, but maybe it was a little of Johnny’s too.

Whilst Johnny certainly hadn’t started the argument, he had been the one to finish it. He had been the one to get the last word in before he stormed back to the castle, leaving Ten alone, shaking with anger and on the verge of tears. He hadn’t cried in the end, but there had been several occasions since that fateful day that the tears had nearly spilled. Nearly, but not quite. Ten wasn’t going to let himself cry over a boy, not even if that boy was Johnny.

Now it was Halloween and Ten felt incredibly miserable, which was rather depressing because Halloween had always been Ten’s favourite time of year. He loved the abundance of sweets and chocolates at Honeydukes, shaped like bats and pumpkins (never ghosts – the Bloody Baron wouldn’t appreciate that very much). He loved the scent of spiced pumpkin pasties that travelled through the castle like an invisible scented candle, wafting deliciously through the air, clinging to his hair and his clothes. He loved the first weekend in Hogsmeade, crisp golden leaves crunching under his feet, sweet Butterbeer warm on his tongue.

But Ten loved Johnny too, maybe more than Halloween, and now he felt like he didn’t have either.

***

Donghyuck eyed Ten suspiciously as the older Slytherin slumped into the seat across from him.

“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with us lately,” Donghyuck mused aloud, eyes narrowing as he watched Ten pile toast onto his plate. It was still early and the Great Hall had yet to fill with the echo of its usual morning chatter, most students still in bed as they grappled to hold onto all the extra minutes of sleep they could manage.

Ten shrugged, a small smile on his face. “Would you believe me if I told you that it was because I enjoy your company?”

“No,” Donghyuck snorted, but he felt his own smile slipping. Something was definitely off. There was a distant look in Ten’s eyes and he had barely reacted to Donghyuck’s sarcastic response, something that the older boy would usually jump at the chance to return.

Over Ten’s shoulder, Donghyuck could see the usual crowd of Gryffindors gathered around their table, but even they were unusually quiet. Jaehyun looked like he was on the verge of drifting off to sleep, Yukhei was nowhere to be seen, Johnny looked just as sullen as Ten – if not more so – and Mark was, to Donghyuck’s surprise, staring right back. The Gryffindor sent Donghyuck a quick smile, so quick that if Donghyuck hadn’t been paying Mark so much attention, he surely would have missed it.

Ever since his Quidditch accident a couple of weeks before, things between Donghyuck and Mark had changed slightly. Whatever grudge Donghyuck had been harbouring had all but diminished after he had woken up in the hospital wing to find a huge box of his favourite chocolates on his bed, a gift Madame Bae claimed were from a certain Gryffindor. Something about the thought of Mark, not only coming to visit him, but also bringing him such a thoughtful gift left Donghyuck’s face aglow and his heart fluttering. It was rather juvenile, really, that a simple box of chocolates had distracted Donghyuck from his anger over the result of the game – his anger over Mark’s win – but the moment he imagined Mark thinking about him made Donghyuck’s heart melt. He was a weak, weak man.

So, with a quickly reddening face and vaguely sweaty hands, Donghyuck returned Mark’s smile. It was probably a little too shaky, a little too wide, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not when Mark seemed to perk up immediately upon noticing Donghyuck. Not when Mark’s eyes lit up in the early morning sunlight filtering through the grand windows. Not when Mark bit his lip to stop himself from smiling again.

“Why’re you smiling like that? It’s creepy.”

Donghyuck startled as Jaemin dropped into the seat beside him, face pale and his tired eyes surrounded by dark shadows.

“I know it’s Halloween, but I think you’ve taken it a little too seriously this year,” Donghyuck rebutted, embarrassed by being caught gazing at the Gryffindor table yet again. He should really be beyond the ability of feeling such humiliation as this wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence, but Donghyuck’s emotions seemed to have a mind of their own.

Jaemin simply glared at Donghyuck silently, who acquiesced with a huff and a comforting pat to Jaemin’s shoulder. The younger boy had spent the better part of the past week moping about like a brooding vampire from one of those angsty teen novels Renjun liked to secretly read. Jaemin hadn’t told any of them exactly why he was acting as such, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Jaemin’s mood had something to do with someone who’s name rhymed with _ Jell-O Pee _ . The way that Jaemin had been resolutely avoiding any conversations that came even remotely close to mentioning the Hufflepuff was all too telling.

Without acknowledging Donghyuck’s gesture of comfort, Jaemin turned to the pile of sausages and bacon pyramided in front of him before mechanically picking a few from the top and dropping them onto his plate with all the grace of a rat wearing heels. On the other side of the table, Ten chewed on a piece of dry toast, still wearing that blank look as he stared at one of the bricks in the wall behind Donghyuck’s head. 

For a moment, Donghyuck wished that someone,  _ anyone _ \- even Renjun, the cynical bastard - would materialise out of nowhere to help break the miserable tension. Donghyuck may have been a wizard, but there were some things that even magic failed to do.

Across the hall, Donghyuck could see Mark stretching across the table to talk to Johnny, muttering something that made the older Gryffindor’s brow draw into a frown and his lips to curl downwards. His eyes drifted from Mark to somewhere Donghyuck predicted to be the back of Ten’s head, who was still munching on the same piece of dry toast.

Ah, so it seemed that Jaemin wasn’t the only one having boy trouble.

Suddenly, Donghyuck had an idea.

And he was going to need a little help to be able to pull it off.

***

When Donghyuck had grabbed Mark roughly by the arm as he left breakfast, he wasn’t entirely sure what he had expected the Slytherin’s reasoning to be, but it certainly wasn’t this.

“You want to purposefully lock our friends in a room together until they either kill each other or make up?”

Donghyuck nodded with a proud grin stretched across his pretty face. “Yes.”

“And this is going to work how, exactly?” Mark wasn’t entirely convinced by Donghyuck’s vague outline of a plan, but then again, it was Donghyuck, so it probably wouldn’t take much convincing.

“We both tell them to meet us and the rest of our friends at an agreed location, shove them in, lock the door and wait,” Donghyuck explained with a level of confidence that made Mark fall for him a little harder.

“That’s it?”

“I mean, I’m hardly trying to plot a heist,” Donghyuck snorted. “What, did you expect me to have a map and a planned escape route? Matching uniforms?”

“I dunno,” Mark shrugged. “Maybe.”

Suddenly, voices could be heard echoing in the hallway as more people began to leave the Great Hall – one of them Mark recognised to be Johnny. He and Jaehyun sounded like they were getting closer by the minute, their voices bouncing loudly off the castle’s walls.

“ _ Shit _ ,” Donghyuck hissed, and before Mark could let out a curse of his own, the Slytherin was tugging at his arm again, pulling him down the corridor until they reached an alcove. With a harsh shove, Donghyuck and Mark tumbled into it as Johnny and Jaehyun’s conversation grew louder.

But, unlike Donghyuck, Mark wasn’t particularly concerned with the imminent threat of his approaching friends. No. He was far more distracted by Donghyuck himself, who had yet to realise that he had squeezed them both into a narrow alcove that was honestly doing a better job of increasing Mark’s heart rate than it was at hiding them. Mark hoped that Donghyuck wasn’t planning on looking at his face anytime soon because he was sure it matched the crimson of his house colours, a shade he didn’t find particularly flattering on himself. Then again, maybe Donghyuck wouldn’t mind. Maybe Donghyuck would find it cute. Maybe Donghyuck would tell Mark he was cute. Maybe Donghyuck would-

“Mark?”

Ah, fuck.

Donghyuck’s entire body stiffened and Mark could feel hot puffs of his breath hitting against the skin of his neck. Only moments before, Mark would have blushed with the effort of having to repress a shiver, but now, with Johnny and Jaehyun standing mere feet away, the tension building up within Mark completely crumbled under their bewildered (and vaguely smug, on Jaehyun’s part) gazes.

Hands shaking with adrenaline (Mark refused to admit to feeling even remotely nervous), the young Gryffindor gently pushed Donghyuck aside and stepped slightly out of the alcove, a sheepish look on his face.

“Um…” he started warily, face burning and eyes looking everywhere but his friends. He could  _ feel _ Donghyuck watching him, could feel Donghyuck’s own nervousness as they both silently scrambled to come up with an excuse. They couldn’t exactly admit to conspiring against Johnny, but the only alternate explanation didn’t seem to be all that much better. Mark wasn’t completely clueless. He knew what he and Donghyuck would’ve looked like to anyone walking past. Anyone, in this case, being Johnny and Jaehyun.

“What exactly are you two doing?” Jaehyun asked, his brow raised quizzically as a tone of amusement slipped into his words. Mark kind of wanted to strangle him.

“We, uh, we were… playing Chinese whispers?” Mark tried helplessly, cringing at his own excuse. Behind him, Donghyuck let out a tired sigh, the kind that usually came from a wife fed up with her husband after twenty-five years of marriage.

“ _ Right _ ,” Johnny said slowly, looking about as convinced as he did when Yukhei ran off to wherever it was he disappeared nowadays with the excuse of “walking his cactus”. He had the expression of someone who refused to be fooled, certainly not by one of his best friends.

Still, Mark tried to feign an air of confidence, chin tilted in a way he hoped begged no questions.

Really, though, he knew better. Clearly Jaehyun did too.

“Because that’s  _ definitely _ what it looked like you two were doing,” Jaehyun snorted, shooting Mark a knowing look and Donghyuck a teasing wink. The Slytherin let out a cough, the kind Mark sometimes used when he tried to cover up a laugh every time Yukhei accidentally turned his pet rat’s tail into a worm in Transfiguration.

“Look, I get it if you guys want to keep this a secret,” Johnny sighed, his playful smirk turning into something a little softer, a little kinder. “We won’t tell anyone.”

“We won’t?” Jaehyun echoed, eyebrows raised in surprise. Mark was used to the older boy getting into all sorts of mischief, along with Johnny, so he was just as surprised as Jaehyun was.

“We  _ won’t _ ,” Johnny confirmed with a firm nod, giving Jaehyun a stern look. “Not until they want us to.”

“Look, uh, this is all really nice of you,” Mark stuttered, rubbing the nape of his neck as he tried to formulate yet another excuse. “But, uh, you’ve got the wrong idea. We, I mean, I-”

An arm hooked itself around Mark’s shoulders, warm and comforting. His voice trailed off, his tongue suddenly feeling like lead in his mouth.

“What Mark is trying to say,” Donghyuck interrupted, a smile evident in his voice, “is thank you. Right, Markie?”

_ Markie? _

Mark’s brain came to a halt. He slowly turned to face Donghyuck, mouth dry and hands sweating. Mark’s breath caught in his throat upon finding the younger boy already staring at him, his mouth pulled into a wide grin. Had Mark not been so accustomed to every one of Donghyuck’s facial expressions, he wouldn’t have noticed how out of the ordinary this smile looked. It was wide, but something about it was uncertain. Something about it seemed unsure. Something about it seemed  _ hopeful _ . Early morning sunshine gleamed through the large windows and caught the ends of Donghyuck’s golden curls, making his entire head shine, encapsulated in a halo of light, and Mark… Mark felt like throwing himself into the lake and letting the giant squid have him.

Merlin, he was in love.

Mark was in love with Donghyuck.

How had he not realised? Was he really so stupid that he couldn’t even differentiate between a measly little crush and full-blown, head-over-heels, heart-stopping, life-changing love?

“Look, Markie, if you want us to leave so you two can play a game of tonsil hockey, just say so.”

Mark spluttered again, his face turning its most furious shade of red yet. He didn’t get a chance to even think about defending his honour because Donghyuck was opening his big mouth again.

“Thanks guys,” the Slytherin grinned mischievously. “Now if you don’t mind, Mark and I have some unfinished business to attend to.”

Jaehyun’s face scrunched up in vague disgust at the comment whilst Johnny let out a boisterous laugh, the first anyone had heard from him since his argument with Ten. If Mark wasn’t so flustered he would’ve probably felt proud of Donghyuck for being able to do so.

“Alright, we’ll leave you two alone,” Johnny snickered, hooking an arm around Jaehyun’s neck. “I’m glad you both managed to finally get your shit together. Congrats.”

“Yeah, it was pretty painful watching Mark pine from half away across the Great Hall every morning,” Jaehyun agreed, shocking both a poor, bewildered Mark and a wide-eyed Donghyuck into silence. Not waiting around to see the aftermath, Johnny shot the two frozen boys one last smirk before tugging Jaehyun along with him as they sauntered further down the corridor until the two Gryffindors were out of sight.

It was silent for a moment, the air stilted and thick with tension.

Surprising even himself, Mark was the first to break it.

“Do you mind telling me what all of that was about?”

Donghyuck looked guilty, his throat moving as he swallowed nervously. Mark couldn’t pinpoint the exact emotion he was feeling, but he wondered if he looked angry to Donghyuck. Maybe he was. Maybe he was angry that it had taken him so long to figure out just how much he liked Donghyuck. Maybe he was angry that Donghyuck played along with his story too well, so well that it left Mark longing for something he didn’t know if he’d ever have. Maybe he was angry that Jaehyun had revealed Mark’s secret before he could even consider how he was going to confess.

Maybe he was angry, for many reasons, but he wasn’t angry at Donghyuck. He could never be truly angry at Donghyuck, he realised, not while he was so irrevocably in love with him.

“I-I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Donghyuck stuttered, his voice smaller than Mark had ever heard it. “I wasn’t really thinking when I insinuated that…  _ you know _ …”

Donghyuck trailed off into silence, his eyes suddenly looking everywhere but Mark.

He needed to fix this before it got worse.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Mark said, his voice barely above a whisper. They were the only people in the corridor, most students still asleep or eating breakfast, but for some reason Mark felt as though he had to lower his voice. Perhaps he was subconsciously worried about scaring Donghyuck, which was silly really. Surely if Donghyuck was ever going to be scared off, it would’ve happened by now. “You- you could never.”

Donghyuck’s head whipped up as quickly as a Firebolt. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes glimmered with what Mark was horrified to recognise were tears.

“Mark.” Donghyuck’s voice came out as nothing more than a croak, choked and crackly. Mark’s heart thumped in his chest. It was the first time he had ever heard anyone say his name like that, never mind Donghyuck. He was used to people calling his name in a number of different ways: a yell across a classroom; a shout on the Quidditch pitch; a groan from his friends after he made a bad joke. Mark had never heard his name sound like it had just now.

He had never heard his name sound so desperate.

“Mark, what Jaehyun said… Is it true?”

Mark could practically feel his heart pounding in his head, blood rushing in his ears so loudly that all he could hear was white noise. Donghyuck just stared at him with pleading eyes, chewing nervously on his lower lip until the skin turned as red as Mark’s face.

His throat felt dry and he was probably sweating through his school shirt, but Mark wasn’t paying attention. He couldn’t, not when Donghyuck looked at him like that. Not when Donghyuck sounded so unsure, so hopeful.

It wasn’t a secret to any of their friends that what Jaehyun had said was true. Almost anyone who knew Mark knew he had his heart on his sleeve for Donghyuck, had been wearing it like that for quite some time. Almost anyone. Not Donghyuck. Donghyuck didn’t know.

For as smart as the Slytherin Seeker was, he could be awfully stupid sometimes. Mark had been trying to hint to Donghyuck for years about his feelings, but the younger boy was so blissfully oblivious that they had gotten absolutely nowhere.

Mark had been pining for years, and he knew that Donghyuck had been pining right back.

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t think that words could do any of his thoughts justice.

But maybe he didn’t have to say anything. Maybe he had already said all that there was to say. Maybe he needed to  _ do _ something instead.

With his heart on the verge of pounding out of his chest, Mark stalked towards Donghyuck, pushed him into the alcove, and kissed him.


	8. halloween heartache

Donghyuck’s lips tingled and his stomach felt funny, like a hoard of Cornish pixies were inside, flapping their wings about and causing their usual amount of chaos.

He could hear Renjun and his Ravenclaw friend Dejun complaining about an essay they had due after the weekend, as well as Chenle’s reassurance to Jisung that _yes, his eyebrows looked perfectly normal_ , followed quickly by a panicked, _no, it’s definitely too early to try that hair dying charm Yuta taught him_. He could almost hear the cogs turning in Jaemin’s head, who trampled wordlessly through the crisp autumn leaves as the group wandered into Hogsmeade, his face just as tired as it had been at breakfast. The afternoon sunshine was bright, but the October breeze cut through its warmth with a nippy coolness that left Donghyuck’s nose a little pink.

None of that really mattered to Donghyuck, though. Not now. Not after the events of that very same morning.

Not after Mark had kissed him.

It was all Donghyuck could think about. It was all he was going to be able to think about for the rest of his life, which was a slight inconvenience because he had a huge mountain of homework piling up that he’d been neglecting for almost a week. There probably wasn’t much of a chance of it getting done now. Not while Donghyuck’s mind was still reeling.

Mark had kissed him. Mark had asked him on a date. Mark _liked_ him.

It had happened like this:

_“Mark, what Jaehyun said… Is it true?”_

_Donghyuck honestly kind of felt like he was going to cry if Mark didn’t say something in the next ten seconds. He felt partly humiliated, partly desperate, but most of all –_ worst _of all – he felt vulnerable. He felt like his skin had suddenly turned transparent and Mark could see his heart fluttering in his chest, could see every thought, every worry, every anxiety spinning around in his head._

_Mark looked a little like Donghyuck had just Petrified him. His eyes were wide, his entire body was kind of frozen and his mouth was parted in a silent gasp._

_Worst of all, he wasn’t saying anything._

_Donghyuck’s eyes began to sting with the effort of holding back his tears, the urge to cry feeling so strong that Donghyuck wouldn’t be surprised if he just spontaneously combusted. His heart pounded a deafening cacophony in his ears and he wanted nothing more than for all of this, all of these feelings, to just end._

_He was about to turn on his heel, run away and live as a spinster for all eternity when he noticed something in Mark’s eyes had changed. He no longer looked shocked. He no longer looked caught off guard. No. He looked determined._

_Before Donghyuck could even think about repressing the shiver that threatened to crawl up his spine, Mark was in front of him, warm hands reaching up to cup Donghyuck’s face as he backed them into the alcove._

_Donghyuck knew exactly what Mark was going to do before he even did it, but that didn’t soften the blow any less. He could never truly prepare himself for the feeling of Mark’s lips pressed against his._

_It felt a little like a dream, like vague memories conjured in the deepest of sleeps. It didn’t feel real, didn’t feel like anything Donghyuck could’ve ever imagined. It felt better. So much better._

_Mark’s lips were soft and gentle as they moved against Donghyuck’s, but the kiss was far from hesitant. In fact, Donghyuck didn’t think that Mark had ever seemed surer of anything in his life. Not even Quidditch._

_Even in the throes of a match, Mark’s body still held a tension that could only be attributed to nerves. He hid it well from his team and the other players, but not Donghyuck. Donghyuck noticed it, because he knew that he mirrored the exact same tension in his own shoulders, in the way his hands clutched his broomstick, in the frantic flicker of his eyes._

_But this was not a game of Quidditch. This was something much more fragile. This meant much more than a few hours spent flying on a broom ever could. This was something that Mark was sure of. Yet, as they kissed Donghyuck, did not feel very sure of anything. This was his first kiss. He had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. He didn’t know how gently or how hard he should kiss back. He didn’t know where to put his hands. He didn’t know how long they should kiss for until it was time to breathe. It didn’t matter, though, because Mark was sure. Mark was in control. The kiss was a little clumsy at first, a little rushed, but Mark remained calm. He didn’t comment on Donghyuck’s shaking hands when he pressed them carefully against Mark’s chest. He didn’t laugh at the way Donghyuck’s breath shuddered nervously with every momentary part of their lips._

_When it all finally got to be too much and Donghyuck’s lungs burned, he gently pushed Mark away. Their lips were red and swollen, and they were both breathing heavily, but it wasn’t as awkward as Donghyuck had pictured his first kiss would be._

_He didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth before Mark was already speaking, and the calm façade he had built up during the kiss came crashing down and pouring out of his mouth in a hurried stream of words._

_“I, uh, I know that this might be a little too soon, probably, but I was thinking that we could maybe, like – I dunno – go out sometime? If you want? Like, together? Or not. It’s up to you. I mean, it’s also kind of up to me so, like, if I don’t want to go we don’t have to, but I do want to go – which doesn’t mean that we_ have _to, so actually, yeah, I guess it is kinda up to y-”_

_In a sudden rush of bravery, Donghyuck swooped in and pressed another kiss to Mark’s lips._

_“Mark. For the love of both our sanity, please shut up,” he whispered, pulling away._

_Mark’s face scrunched up in confusion, looking as though he were wondering if he had got it all wrong – the kiss, Donghyuck’s feelings, the supposedly mutual pining. Donghyuck quickly put those worries to rest._

_“I like you, Mark,” he confessed quietly, avoiding Mark’s eyes as he shifted nervously on his feet. “I’m sure you know that already, but I wanted to tell you anyway. I like you a lot. Like, so much, that if you asked me to spend a night in the Shrieking Shack with you, I’d probably say yes.”_

_That was when Mark let out a delighted laugh – the prettiest sound Donghyuck had ever heard. Merlin, had always been so disgustingly sappy? The anxious twist of Mark’s mouth unravelled into a pleased smile that was so contagious Donghyuck couldn’t help but mirror it._

_“I, uh, I like you too,” Mark breathed happily. Donghyuck’s heart skipped a beat. “I’m not sure if you already knew that…_

“Hyuck! Hyuck!” It was Renjun. “What is up with you today? You keep smiling to yourself. It’s really fucking weird.”

Donghyuck felt himself blush for the millionth time that day. Was this it for him? Was he now going to live out the rest of his days as a hapless, lovesick fool? He hadn’t even noticed that not only had Renjun’s conversation with Dejun ended, but they were already in Hogsmeade. He needed someone to slap him in the face or else he’d spend the rest of his day dreaming.

“Sorry, just… thinking,” he mumbled sheepishly. He hadn’t told any of his friends about the Mark situation, and he wouldn’t until he felt prepared to take on their teasing because he already knew just how painful it would be.

“A likely story,” Renjun snorted, ignoring the glare Donghyuck sent his way. “Jaemin too, by the looks of it, although I’m guessing he’s not thinking about the same thing you are. I’ve never seen him so quiet. I don’t even think I can make fun of him this time. I actually kind of feel a little bad - and in turn a little pathetic - but _still_.”

Donghyuck gasped dramatically. “What? Renjun Huang has feelings?”

“Oh, do shut up,” Renjun muttered, shoving Donghyuck so hard he almost toppled over. “You know what I mean.”

They both turned to watch Jaemin, who walked a little further behind them with Jisung on one side and Chenle on the other. The two younger boys chatted loudly, but Jaemin remained silent in the middle, his blank eyes trained on the ground.

“Yeah, I do,” Donghyuck sighed.

 _Don’t worry Jaemin_ , he thought, _you’re next_.

But first, Donghyuck had another plan to set in motion.

*******

“How long will it take?” Doyoung asked desperately, eyeing his poor wand forlornly.

“A few hours?” the man shrugged helplessly, frowning as he inspected the crack in the wood. “What on earth did you do to it?”

Doyoung sighed miserably. “My friend’s cat chewed it.”

The man coughed, attempting to hide an amused laugh. If Doyoung wasn’t so upset, he’d have probably laughed too. It was quite a ridiculous situation, and certainly not one Doyoung had ever prepared himself for. When he got his hands on Kun’s filthy little sidekick, he was going to turn it green and launch it so far into the air it could be mistaken for a Quidditch ball. Preferably a bludger. Then maybe he could blame the beaters for any potential injuries.

Doyoung was thankful, not for the first time, that Jeno was not a legilimens. He shuddered to think what his animal-loving friend would do should he find out that Doyoung was in a rage-filled feud with a cat.

“Not heard that one before,” the man snorted, sliding his glasses up onto the top of his head. “I should have it good as new before you have to be back at the castle.”

With a grateful, if not slightly crestfallen smile, Doyoung thanked the man and exited the shop. Jeno hovered outside, black-and-yellow scarf wrapped up to his nose.

“What’d he say?” the younger boy asked as Doyoung stepped into the crisp October air.

“It’ll probably take the rest of the day,” Doyoung shrugged. Jeno reached out and patted his arm comfortingly. He knew how much Doyoung’s wand meant to him.

It was more than just a tool to channel his magic. To Doyoung, his wand was almost a way for him to prove to everyone else that he was just as much of a wizard as they were. It didn’t matter that he was muggle-born. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t grown up surrounded by the wonders of magic. It also didn’t matter that he wasn’t the only student born to non-magic parents. Doyoung always felt like he had something to prove, and owning a wand was just one part of it. Jeno knew that without it, Doyoung hardly felt like a wizard at all.

“How about we go and grab a butterbeer?” the Hufflepuff suggested in the hopes of cheering up his friend.

Doyoung simply nodded tiredly. “Sure.”

The two boys trailed down crowded streets filled with Hogwarts students, ecstatic to be let out of castle grounds for a few hours of unmonitored freedom. Well, unmonitored for the most part. Doyoung was fairly sure he had seen Professor Park stumble out of Tomes and Scrolls, a mountain of books balanced precariously in his hands, as well as Professors Byun and Do shuffling discreetly into the Hog’s Head. They also walked past a huddle of third years, complaining about the fanged frisbee ban – something Doyoung was eternally grateful for. It made his job as a prefect approximately fifty times easier.

Eventually, they made it to the Three Broomsticks, unscathed but a little chilled. Jeno pushed open the door, immediately subjecting them to a wave of warm air and the quiet murmuring of the customers inside.

“I can get the drinks if you want to find a table,” Jeno suggested as the door swung shut behind them. He watched Doyoung with that look in his eyes – the one that made Doyoung feel bad because he wasn’t really the one that needed to be looked after.

Jeno had been miserable for the better part of a week, not that he’d really let it show. It was just that Doyoung was very perceptive. He noticed these things. He noticed how Jeno’s smile wasn’t reaching his eyes how it used to. He noticed how Jeno had stopped chattering excitedly about everything Napoleon did. He noticed how Jeno left the Great Hall as soon as the Slytherins walked in. Doyoung had noticed all of this, but he hadn’t said a thing. He was beginning to wonder if he should.

Doyoung watched Jeno for a moment as the younger boy headed towards the bar. There was nothing visibly wrong with him, but Doyoung could see the slight slump of his shoulders and the way his shoes scuffed against the floor. That was very telling. Jeno loved those shoes. He had spent the first few weeks of term showing them off, telling everyone who listened that they were a gift from his mother. Doyoung didn’t know much about Jeno’s mother, but he could tell that his friend adored her. He wondered what she would say if she could see Jeno like this. Doyoung tried to imagine what he would do – what he _should_ do – but he’d never been good at the whole emotional heart-to-heart thing. He silently vowed to talk to Taeyong about this. He was Head Boy after all, as well as Jeno’s housemate.

Reluctantly peeling his eyes away from Jeno, Doyoung scanned the tables, searching for an empty one. It was pretty busy, what with it already being late afternoon, but Doyoung was holding out hope that if there weren’t any free tables yet, that someone else would be leaving in the next few minutes. One table housed a group of giggling Gryffindor girls, whilst another was reserved by a single man wearing a rather odd hat. The next table over was what caught Doyoung off guard.

Doyoung hadn’t seen much of Jaehyun since the disastrous Quidditch game weeks before. He hadn’t initially planned on going, but either he was feeling particularly soft that day or his friends were particularly convincing.

Jaehyun had stopped turning up to the library unprompted (Doyoung would never admit to missing the surprise apples), he barely said a word during Alchemy (although it was hard for even Professor Park to get a word in when Kun got going) and not once had Doyoung caught Jaehyun out of bed during his patrols of the corridors (even though Jaehyun had certainly not been following the rules if the things Sicheng told him were true).

Now, Jaehyun sat at a corner table across from Ten. They were fairly close, their shoulders almost touching, and they were giggling into their butterbeer. Something about the sight aggravated Doyoung and made his jaw clench. It was probably the sound of Jaehyun’s laugh. It was loud and boisterous and irritating, and his smile was far too wide. No one smiled like that, no matter how happy they were.

Instead of stewing in his anger, Doyoung glanced around the room until his eyes landed on the only empty table. It was tiny, with only two, wobbly looking stools tucked under it, but that was all Doyoung needed. It wasn’t until he dropped down onto his seat that he noticed it's unfortunate placement – he had a perfect, front row, high definition view of Jaehyun and Ten’s table. They were both still laughing. What could possibly be so hilarious? Sure, Ten was funny, but it must come to a point where he’s run out of jokes, right?

Doyoung didn’t have much time to ponder the mortality of Ten’s comedic abilities, because not two seconds later, Jeno dropped into the seat across from him and slid one huge pint of butterbeer across the table.

“Sorry it took so long, the queue was pretty huge,” Jeno apologised before taking a sip of his drink. When he pulled the glass away, he left a foam moustache behind and Doyoung’s eyes softened, endeared.

“It’s fine,” Doyoung smiled, pulling a tissue out of his pocket. He reached across the table and wiped the mess off of Jeno’s face, who flushed embarrassedly when he realised what Doyoung was doing.

“Thanks, Doyoung,” Jeno grinned once Doyoung dropped the crumpled-up tissue on the table.

Doyoung definitely still needed to talk to Taeyong, but maybe, if he tried, he could take care of Jeno in the meantime.

*******

“Jae, you are sitting directly in front of me. I can literally _see_ that you’re not listening to a word I’m saying.”

Jaehyun ignored Ten’s whining in favour of watching the way Doyoung’s face practically melted every time his Hufflepuff friend so much as breathed. Ten’s whining could wait - Jaehyun had been subject to it for the better part of the afternoon and it would probably continue well into tomorrow if all went to plan.

To say he had been hesitant upon first hearing The Plan was an understatement. Mark found Jaehyun in the common room not long after the younger boy had been caught with Donghyuck in the hallway. As it turned out, what Jaehyun had thought was happening didn’t _actually_ happen until after he and Johnny left, but he was happy for Mark nonetheless. The Seeker’s face was flushed and his eyes shone, an effect Jaehyun had expected no one - least of all Donghyuck Lee - to have on Mark. It wasn’t until after a few minutes of necessary teasing that Mark revealed the real reason he and Donghyuck had been tucked away in a tiny alcove; they had been concocting a plan.

The Plan was this: Jaehyun would ask Ten to go for drinks in Hogsmeade, using a much needed catch-up as a guise for Phase One, as Mark had so eloquently put it (Phase One also implied the existence of a Phase Two but either Mark and Donghyuck hadn’t got that far or it simply did not exist).

Jaehyun would then suggest that, with it being Halloween (Ten’s favourite time of year), they visit the Shrieking Shack. Knowing Ten, the Slytherin would suggest going inside, just like he did every other year. This year, Jaehyun would agree. Donghyuck and Jaemin would just so happen to also be there, and propose a bet, challenging the participants to one hour in the Shrieking Shack. The conditions of this bet? Their wands. According to Donghyuck, there was no trusting an angry Ten with a wand at his disposal.

Once Jaehyun and Ten were safely inside the shack, Donghyuck would sprint back into town to collect Johnny, who would conveniently be inside Honeydukes with Mark, who wanted nothing more than to see the Shrieking Shack with his best friend and brand new boyfriend at his side. Knowing Johnny’s soft side, he would agree. Jaemin and Jaehyun would stay behind at the shack to ensure that Ten didn’t leave, no matter what. Then, Johnny would arrive. Mark would convince him to go inside, Jaehyun would sneak out, and the door would be locked behind them. After that, it was up to Ten and Johnny. Easy.

What Jaehyun had not accounted for was Kim Doyoung.

Every so often, Jaehyun could feel Doyoung’s eyes on him. He could tell that the Ravenclaw prefect was itching for an argument. They had barely interacted for weeks and Jaehyun could tell that it was getting to Doyoung. Jaehyun didn’t think that Doyoung liked him, not the way Jaehyun liked Doyoung, but he definitely awoke something within the other boy. The fact that Jaehyun had been paying him so much attention one day, and then ignoring him the next was probably more than a little irritating.

Jaehyun hadn’t really meant to fall off the grid Doyoung-wise, but after Johnny and Ten’s argument, he had thought a lot. He had thought a lot about the things he did for Doyoung, and how he didn’t even know if they were appreciated because Doyoung barely acknowledged them. He had thought a lot about the late nights he’d spent bringing Doyoung snacks instead of focusing on his own homework. He had thought a lot about the way Doyoung always smiled with his friends, but never at him.

Jaehyun had thought a lot about Doyoung and had concluded that there was no point in trying to get someone to like him, someone who very obviously did not like him back. So, he had stopped. He had stopped the late-night library visits and the compliments and the smiles at breakfast. He had instead made it his mission to avoid Doyoung as much as possible because Jaehyun was a far weaker man than people gave him credit for. One look at Doyoung’s face and he’d go crawling back.

What Jaehyun had never considered was that Doyoung could miss it, even subconsciously, even just the arguments. Maybe, just maybe, Jaehyun had been wrong to do so.

“Hey,” Ten barked, snapping his fingers in the Gryffindor’s face. Jaehyun could already feel Doyoung watching them.

“What now?” Jaehyun groaned, draining the last of his butterbeer.

“I know you’re, like, in love with Kim, or whatever, but need I remind you that I did not invite myself this afternoon. I thought this was supposed to be our chance to catch up.”

Ten’s eyes drooped sadly and there was a childish pout on his face. Jaehyun sighed.

“Sorry,” he apologised, “I guess I’ve just not been with it recently.”

Jaehyun didn’t need to explain for Ten to understand. The Slytherin shot him a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, you and me both, buddy.”

Four o’clock. Jaehyun had exactly one hour until Phase One began. Looked like another butterbeer was on the cards. He stopped himself from glancing Doyoung’s way as he walked to the bar a few moments later. It was difficult – painful, even – but it was the only way that this would work. It was the only way that Jaehyun would get over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, i have returned with another chapter after only a week this time!! i hope you enjoyed this one. i also realised that i have accidentally neglected the dojae storyline in the past few updates but there is plenty more to come!
> 
> i was unsure if i should split the Halloween chapter into two or three parts, but i ended up going with three purely to maintain a consistent chapter length throughout this fic. i wanted to ask if you like shorter chapters like this, or if you would prefer longer ones (meaning the chapters wouldn’t be split)?  
> longer chapters would potentially mean a longer wait in between updates, but please let me know.
> 
> as always, thank you so much for reading (and for 5000+ hits WHAT????)!! kudos and comments are always appreciated 😊 <3


	9. freaking out the neighbourhood

Jeno did not know why Doyoung had hauled him out of his seat at the Three Broomsticks, leaving his coat and unfinished butterbeer behind, but he was now being dragged through slowly darkening streets, Doyoung’s hand clamped firmly around his wrist.

“Um, where exactly are we going?”

“We, dear Jeno, are in pursuit,” Doyoung announced confidently, his voice a harsh whisper.

“In pursuit of what?” Jeno hissed, muttering a curse under his breath when his foot caught on a particularly vicious cobblestone. “And why are we whispering?”

“Not important,” was Doyoung’s extremely vague and unhelpful reply. Jeno wasn’t entirely sure which of his two questions the Ravenclaw was answering, and his confusion only grew. One minute he had been sipping happily on his pint of butterbeer, and the next Doyoung had a hand clamped around his wrist as they rushed back out into the cool, autumn evening.

Jeno shivered uncomfortably as the wind nipped at his bare forearms, but Doyoung – usually the most perceptive of his friends – barely took notice, far too focused on whatever he was chasing. The streets of Hogsmeade were still crowded with Hogwarts students, milling in and out of shops as they took advantage of the last rays of sunshine, so Jeno couldn’t figure out who it was they were following. The sky had turned to a vibrant shade of tangerine whilst he and Doyoung were in the Three Broomsticks, and Jeno would have stopped to admire it had he not been in the iron grip of his older friend.

It wasn’t until the crowds thinned out nearer the outskirts of the main street that everything clicked into place.

He narrowed his eyes, squinting at the two figures walking side-by-side a few metres ahead of them, one of them considerably taller than the other.

“Is that…” Jeno trailed off, eyebrows raising the moment he recognised them. “Doyoung, are we following _Jaehyun Jung_?”

Doyoung seemed to stiffen beside him at Jeno’s incredulous screech, panicked gaze fixed on the two boys ahead as though he was expecting them to turn around and notice them at any moment. Jeno was surprised that they hadn’t already. After all, Doyoung was known more for how seriously he took his role as prefect rather than for his subtlety.

“What, no,” the Ravenclaw spluttered defensively. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

The look that Jeno shot Doyoung could only be described as horrendously judgemental, with a sprinkle of mirth added in for fun – after all, it was common knowledge amongst their friend group that Doyoung was the easiest to rile up. At times, Jeno could hardly blame Jaehyun for doing it so often, although the Gryffindor seemed to have cut down on his surprise appearances in recent weeks. Jeno wondered if that had anything to do with Doyoung’s current pursuit of the quidditch star.

“Well, for starters-” Jeno started, his tone adopting a teasing lilt before Doyoung quickly cut him off.

“ _Do not_ answer that question,” he seethed quietly, and Jeno flinched. Doyoung was using his prefect voice, as the Hufflepuff had silently dubbed it.

Jeno shrugged, pouting childishly. “You asked,” he pointed out. Doyoung merely grumbled under his breath, but his footsteps didn’t falter as he continued to lead Jeno in the same direction as Jaehyun and Ten, who Jeno had taken a little longer to place. He didn’t know Ten all that well, but he and Doyoung were pseudo friends.

They continued to follow the other boys down slowly darkening paths until Jeno began to recognise his surroundings. The clearing of trees was all too familiar after all the dares he had been a part of throughout his first year of Hogsmeade weekends.

It seemed that Doyoung had come to a similar realisation.

“Hah, I knew it!” he scoffed, treading carefully so as not to step on a stray twig and give up their ruse.

“Did you?” Jeno queried sceptically. “Who do you think you are? Jungwoo?”

“I don’t need perfect marks in Divination to conclude that we are, in fact, on our way to the Shrieking Shack,” Doyoung sniffed, sounding somewhat affronted. “Anyway, it would make for a pretty disappointing prediction; visiting the most haunted building in Hogsmeade on Halloween.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Hogwarts is literally teeming with ghosts. I would wager a bet that the castle is far more haunted than some run-down house,” Jeno muttered, only to quickly shut up when Doyoung sent him a terrifying glare.

Their mild spat had slowed them down a little, so when they returned to the task at hand, they found that Jaehyun and Ten had almost reached their destination. However, that was not surprising part.

Jeno didn’t know about Doyoung, but _he_ certainly hadn’t expected to find the Shrieking Shack already occupied. He couldn’t see from where they hid amidst the trees, but it looked like Jaehyun and Ten had been joined by another two people. Their muffled laughter sounded through the air, an eerie yet immediately placeable sound.

“Donghyuck?” Jeno whispered, straining his eyes in an attempt to figure out who the other person was. His first thought was Renjun, but the silhouetted figure was too tall to be the slight Ravenclaw.

That only really left…

“ _Fuck_.”

“Language, Jeno Lee!” Doyoung reprimanded, although his gaze remained fixed on the cluster of students gathered beside the shack. “I raised you better than this!”

Jeno ignored him, his heart dropping to his stomach upon discovering the identity of Donghyuck’s companion. It could only be Jaemin. Anyone else would make little sense. Yangyang, for example, was still pretty much exiled from their immediate circle as far as Jeno knew. He knew that Jisung and Chenle were almost certainly still in Zonko’s, even if they should never have been allowed to leave the castle unsupervised. There were probably a few others who could be connected to Lee Donghyuck, but Jeno quickly ruled them all out as unlikely candidates, leaving him with the one and only Jaemin Na.

He had been avoiding Jaemin, that much Jeno could admit, but only to himself. He had been avoiding Jaemin because he was so horribly, terribly, deathly _embarrassed_.

Jeno knew that on the outside he seemed like the perfect, unsuspecting Hufflepuff everyone expected him to be. Jaemin had probably thought the same from the moment they had met, even if that had been much earlier than the Slytherin realised. If only Jeno didn’t have such a huge, debilitating crush on the other boy. If only he hadn’t spent the past two and a half years pining from afar over someone who hadn’t known his name until not even two months ago. If only he hadn’t gotten so comfortable with Jaemin. If only he hadn’t weirded his crush out by whipping out a fucking toad and calling it his best friend.

Jeno felt so incredibly humiliated over it all that he had stopped bringing Napoleon with him everywhere. The little toad now had a new home (just during classtime) with Professor Zhang, who had promised to ensure the safety of Jeno’s pet.

So, the weeks that followed were lonely for Jeno, void of the two things he lo- liked most.

Jaemin probably thought that he was a complete and utter loser, who was incapable of basic human interaction and had a strange obsession with animals. While that wouldn’t be all that far from the truth, Jeno was so much more than the person people saw. There was so much more to him, and if he hadn’t fucked things up with Jaemin so royally, then perhaps he would have been able to show that.

It was too late now, though, because Jeno had been too eager to move things along, too quick in his assumption that Jaemin felt the same way he did.

Jeno let out a quiet sigh of defeat, so quiet that Doyoung didn’t notice, and returned his concentration to the scene in front of him.

The group of four boys were all huddled together so closely that there was no way for Jeno to know what it was they were up to. Doyoung was in a similar position if his frustrated huffing was anything to go by.

“You know, it doesn’t matter how hard you try,” Jeno teased. “Humans can’t breathe fire. Not even wizards.”

“I should never have adopted you,” Doyoung grumbled disappointedly, and Jeno couldn’t bite back the cheeky grin threatening to break onto his face.

Someone, possibly Ten, let out a dramatic wail of defeat. Jeno and Doyoung exchanged a bewildered look, their brows furrowed in confusion. What on earth was going on?

“We should get a little closer,” Doyoung announced, not waiting for Jeno to reply before he began to wind his way through the trees.

“But _why_?” Jeno whined quietly, trailing after Doyoung because the last thing he wanted was to be left in the woods, alone, in the dark.

“It’s time Jaehyun got a taste of his own medicine,” was the only answer Jeno got, just as cryptic as the others. He didn’t really know what that meant, but he did know that Kim Doyoung was so deep in denial he was practically drowning in it.

***

Jaemin did not know why Donghyuck had left him to stand on guard outside the Shrieking Shack, but he was not best pleased about the whole thing.

The sky was quickly darkening to the colour of ink scribbled across parchment, and whatever creatures lurked the hours of night seemed to be awakening. Every so often twigs would crack, or the wind would rush through whispering trees, or worst of all, an owl would hoot causing Jaemin to break out into a cold sweat.

Sometimes Jaemin wondered if something traumatic happened to him as a child that had caused this fear of animals, but as much as he wracked his brain, all he could come up with were memories of a happy childhood. All he had were vignetted images of playing quidditch with his father, flying clumsily through the air on his beginner’s broom, or all of his mother’s failed attempts at making salted caramel ice cream, the salt so strong it left their mouths sour and dry.

He missed his parents, and Jaemin couldn’t be more thrilled that the Christmas holidays were only growing closer. His third year had been pretty dire in terms of, well, everything, but this year hadn’t been all that much better. It was only Halloween, and already Jaemin had been forced to take the class of his nightmares, had his heart broken by his first love (because surely it had been love if it hurt this much), and now he had been abandoned by his best friend all for the sake of _someone else’s_ love.

Donghyuck had barely been gone sixty seconds, but Jaemin was already growing restless. He didn’t fully understand why he had been dragged into this plot of secrecy, love and betrayal (quite the epic tale, really), nor why he had been tasked to stand alone in the dark with the wands.

“We should probably take their wands – just to be sure nothing bad happens,” Donghyuck had told him in a hushed whisper as they hovered outside the Shrieking Shack. It was all very conspiratorial. “I know Ten’s a friendly guy and all, but he terrifies me sometimes.

So, when Jaehyun and Ten the Target (as Jaemin had crowned him) arrived, Donghyuck had suggested some sort of bet involving wands and an hour in the shack – one that appeared to convince everyone but Jaemin. Maybe it was because he already knew what was happening, but he liked to think that it made him somewhat of an omniscient narrator.

He felt much less smug now. Jaehyun and Ten had been inside the shack for all of two minutes, but Jaemin could no longer hear their voices. It was unnerving, really, how silent yet deafeningly loud everything seemed. There wasn’t another person in sight, but all that Jaemin could hear was incessant, never-ending _noise_. Goose bumps prickled across his skin, spreading as quickly as a deadly infection, and the pounding of his heart almost drowned out another dreadful owl hoot.

As it turned out, the last straw was nothing but a snapping twig. Jaemin had tried to ignore the odd crack here and there, pinning it down to harmless creatures scuttering the forest floor. The only difference this time, was that the sound came from much closer by – like, directly behind Jaemin kind of close. He could practically envision a heavy-booted foot crashing down on the innocuous piece of wood, murderously thundering through the trees with their wand ready, eyes fixed on poor, helpless Jaemin in bloodthirsty rage.

With what could only be described as a life-fearing scream, Jaemin abandoned all his dignity and began the sprint back into Hogsmeade, paying no attention to whoever – or whatever – he had left behind. Jaehyun could handle Ten on his own, he was sure of it.

What Jaemin wasn’t so sure of was his own survival and finding a familiar face amongst the remaining students in town was the only way he could ensure it.

***

Ten did not know why Jaehyun had brought him to the Shrieking Shack, but he couldn’t really find it in himself to complain.

He had spent the past few years trying to convince his friends to accompany him on a Halloween visit, but they were either all complete and utter scaredy cats, or Ten’s skills of coercion weren’t nearly as up to par as he thought they were.

As much as Ten was enjoying himself, however, something about this whole situation definitely seemed strange.

First, there had been Jaehyun’s invitation to join him for a drink at the Three Broomsticks which, while thoughtful, was also extremely out of the blue considering they had hardly spoken a word to one another since the whole Johnny thing. Ten hadn’t questioned it though, and had merely gone along with Jaehyun’s plan, resulting in a very pleasant afternoon filled with foamy butterbeer and warm laughter. He had missed Jaehyun rather a lot, and Ten couldn’t stop the twinge of guilt he felt when he remembered all the times he had ducked around the nearest corner upon seeing his friend coming the other way.

Things had only gotten stranger when Jaehyun offered to tag along with Ten’s coveted Shrieking Shack expedition – unprompted, might he add. Ten had quickly agreed, deciding not to comment on the relief in Jaehyun’s eyes when he did.

So yes, something odd was most certainly afoot, but Ten was enjoying himself too much to figure things out. They had unexpectedly met Donghyuck and Jaemin mere moments ago, and Ten had been all too happy to offer up his wand in order to prove his bravery. The prospect of free Honeydukes for a month was neither here nor there.

Anyway, an hour spent in the Shrieking Shack was nothing, not after he had gotten himself locked in a broom cupboard overnight back in second year. Ten almost sighed aloud at the memory, remembering how scared he had been when he realised that the door wouldn’t budge, not even with a miserly Alohamora. He could also remember the relief that weighed down on him the moment the door opened to reveal a panicked, wide-eyed Johnny, and Ten had promptly burst into tears.

He hadn’t just missed Jaehyun.

Ten missed Johnny too, more than he had ever missed anyone in his life. It was worse because it was his fault. Johnny was so close, yet so far away, so out of reach, and Ten had no idea how to fix things.

Maybe, no matter Jaehyun’s mysterious intentions, this was a good distraction for him. Excitement quelled quietly in Ten’s stomach as he and Jaehyun explored every corner of every room. The wooden floors groaned and creaked with each step, and for a brief moment Ten worried that it would collapse under their feet.

“Man, this shit is spooky,” Jaehyun muttered under his breath, fearfully eyeing a mysterious stain on the peeling walls.

“It’s not that bad,” Ten snorted, grimacing when his hand brushed against a particularly dusty doorknob. “The building’s abandoned. No one’s gonna jump out-”

Something creaked in another room, followed by a muffled thump. Jaehyun’s eyes widened and Ten felt his blood run cold as it trickled sluggishly through his veins.

“What was that?” he whispered, moving closer to the door. Something creaked again, and Ten flinched.

“Should we go and investigate?” Jaehyun suggested lowly, not sounding nearly as scared as Ten had expected him to be.

With an audible gulp, Ten nodded, and Jaehyun ushered him forwards as they left the room. He regretted not having been more superstitious, because it was looking like that very regret would be his downfall.

***

Johnny did not know why Mark had pulled him into Honeydukes, only to spend an inordinate amount of time debating between a bag of chewy caramels and a box of ice mice.

They weren’t even the best sweets on offer (Johnny was partial to a bit of crystallised pineapple himself), so he could only guess that they were meant to be a gift for Donghyuck.

The air was thick with the sickly-sweet scent of sugar, and after spending so long browsing the shelves, Johnny’s teeth were beginning to hurt. He was a little hungry too, and Mark had promised they would be back at Hogwarts in time for dinner, but if the younger Gryffindor sighed one more time at a nearby box of saltwater taffy Johnny could not be held accountable for his actions.

“Please tell me you’re nearly done,” he groaned, watching mournfully as Mark put down one bag of caramel, only to pick another one, only slightly less creased than the first.

Mark turned to face Johnny with a raised eyebrow. “This is a delicate task. One wrong move and I’ll ruin the entire sweet eating experience.”

The look on Johnny’s face was nothing if not incredulous.

“Christ knows what goes on in that head of yours,” he muttered quietly. He didn’t notice the way Mark’s eyes flickered between the window and the sweets in his hands.

It wasn’t until Johnny was on the verge of eating everything in his sight that Donghyuck burst through the doors of Honeydukes, windswept and flushed.

Ah, so Mark had merely been stalling. For an hour. Possibly longer if Johnny’s watch was still running slow.

The bright grin on Mark’s face was honestly kind of endearing, though, and Johnny almost forgot why he had even been annoyed in the first place. They were a sweet couple, Mark and Donghyuck, even if a little awkward. Mark had told Johnny everything on the walk into Hogsmeade, blushing as he stumbled through his story with a slightly glazed look in his eyes. Johnny had burst out laughing upon finding out that his assumption had been a little early, but had ultimately forced Mark to confess. He felt like a proud big brother as he watched Mark reach tentatively for Donghyuck’s hand, but his pride was quickly replaced by resignation when the younger boy grabbed a box of chocolates instead.

Well, at least the pining would stop now. It had honestly grown painful, watching the two boys watch each other, and Johnny couldn’t be happier that it was over. Sure, Jaehyun still had his own pining issue, but that was a different story. Despite his popularity, Jaehyun was a fairly private person and for the most part Johnny wasn’t privy to the inner workings of his best friend’s mind, especially when Doyoung Kim was involved. The only thing he could be sure of was that Jaehyun liked Doyoung, for whatever reason, and had reached a point of exasperation where the Ravenclaw prefect was concerned. Johnny felt for his friend. He couldn’t imagine what it was like having unrequited feelings for someone, and someone he saw almost every day at that. He couldn’t imagine how it would feel to stop seeing them all of a sudden, to stop hearing their voice, their jokes, their laugh. He couldn’t imagine deciding it was for the better to watch them from afar, allowing your heart to ache and dreams to wander. It was a horrible experience, Johnny could imagine that much.

Speaking of Jaehyun, Johnny hadn’t seen him all afternoon. The younger boy had disappeared earlier that day with some vague excuse and a promise to meet up later. Now, it was later (at least to Johnny’s understanding) and he had yet to see Jaehyun anywhere.

“Johnny!”

Donghyuck appeared in front of him, eyes sparkling gleefully. If Johnny knew anything, it was that Donghyuck was perfect for Mark. His sunny smiles and bright personality were a compliment to Mark’s bashful grins and terrible jokes, and his mean streak was just mean enough for Mark to handle with some sarcasm of his own.

Johnny’s stomach suddenly gurgled out of nowhere, and he was reminded just exactly who he had a bone to pick with and why.

“Hello, Donghyuck,” he greeted flatly, “Can you please ask your boyfriend to hurry the fuck up because I am about to pass out from hunger?”

Donghyuck’s smile didn’t dim in the slightest. In fact, if anything, it only grew in its mischievousness. If Johnny wasn’t half a foot taller than the Slytherin he would probably be scared of him. 

“Of course,” Donghyuck replied, eyes twinkling evilly as he ran over to Mark, who greeted him with a disgustingly lovesick expression.

The two younger boys whispered between one another, and Johnny’s brow creased into a frown when he caught Donghyuck looking at him with a strange, conspiratorial smirk. Why did it look like they were _scheming_? Johnny narrowed his eyes sceptically, and they remained that way until Mark finally made his purchase, before leading them out into the darkening streets of Hogsmeade.

It was a pretty sight, despite the tacky Halloween decorations. The sun had almost set, casting a lilac shadow over the entire town whose shop windows shone warmly with orange and yellow lights. There was a brisk chill in the air that nipped at Johnny’s nose, but he didn’t mind. His mind was far too focused on his body, who didn’t fail to remind him that he was indeed ravenous.

“Come on, Johnny!” Mark yelled, and only then did Johnny realise he hadn’t moved an inch since exiting Honeydukes. He also realised that his friend was not walking in the direction of the castle.

“Where’re you going?” Johnny asked indignantly, the prospect of eating late making his stomach curl up miserably. He was so very hungry. “What about dinner?”

“That’ll have to wait,” Donghyuck shrugged, suddenly at Johnny’s side, dragging him along with a surprisingly tight grip. He was much stronger than he looked. “We have a surprise for you!”

Johnny hated surprises, and he was fairly certain that he liked them even less when Lee Donghyuck was involved. Unfortunately for him, Johnny was a weak man, and one pleading smile from Mark was enough for him to agree.

He just hoped that whatever this surprise was would be over in time for dinner.

***

Doyoung did not know what he had expected to happen upon entering the Shrieking Shack, but it most certainly was not to end up on the bottom of a dogpile as the door slammed shut with so much force the walls shook.

Now, Jaehyun, Ten and Jeno eyed him warily, all of them but Jeno (who had managed to avoid the pile up) dishevelled and covered in remnants of the floor’s dust. Apparently Ten had thought he’d heard a ghost and had come to investigate, Jaehyun hot on his heels – too hot, as it turned out, because his feet had managed to catch the back of Ten’s shoes and sent them both flying forwards into an unsuspecting Doyoung. The cherry on top was that Jaehyun had flown so far forwards he had caught the door, jamming it shut with an unexpected amount of force.

To finish off this very ugly cake, the door no longer opened, and all four of them were effectively locked in until someone realised that they were missing.

Doyoung had been having a terrible day, and now, he was having a terrible night too.

He was very close to bursting a blood vessel with the strength of the anger coursing through his veins. He wasn’t sure who was actually more to blame for this turn of events – Ten for his panicked sleuthing, or Jaehyun for toppling over, bringing everyone with him and locking them inside in the process. Whether it was residual anger from all things Jaehyun or a personal vendetta, Doyoung decided on the latter.

This was easily the worst Halloween of his life. Even worse than that year a ghost had followed him around the entire day – even when he had to use the bathroom.

“I can’t believe you’ve locked us in here,” Ten groaned, slumping to the floor like a melting marshmallow. Evidently, he had chosen to blame Jaehyun too.

“I can,” Doyoung muttered, turning to glare at Jaehyun who was looking terribly guilty, and rightfully so.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Jaehyun whined, flopping onto the floor beside Jeno in defeat. The Hufflepuff had remained pretty much silent since they had left the camouflage of the trees, but Doyoung currently had far more pressing matters to deal with. Like find a way out. Without a wand. Apparently Jeno had left his own wand behind in the Three Broomsticks when Doyoung dragged him from his seat, desperate to finally get Jaehyun in trouble. Surely he deserved it at this point in his school career, after years of rule breaking and mischief, and Doyoung had been meaning to get back at the Gryffindor after the whole detention thing last month.

“I didn’t think that you _meant_ for us to get trapped inside the Shrieking Shack on Halloween, but you’ve managed to do it anyway,” Doyoung grumbled, deciding not to sit because the floor looked disgustingly grubby. God knows who had been in here. Or what.

Well, _he_ had, but that had not been by choice. Doyoung was merely doing his duty as a prefect, catching misbehaving students red handed. Right?

“I can’t believe that none of us have wands.”

Everyone turned to look at Jeno, whose eyes were fixed miserably on the door, as though staring at it hard enough would force it to magically open. It was a tragedy, really, that none of them were all that great at wandless magic - not even Doyoung. It was his one and only academic flaw. It was also another reason behind the very personal attachment he had to his wand. Oh, how he wanted to strangle Kun’s stupid cat.

“Remind me to never make you angry,” Ten said, a mildly terrified look on his face as he watched Doyoung simmer furiously. 

Jaehyun, on the other hand, had stopped paying attention to Doyoung and was instead staring intently at the watch on his wrist, his knee bouncing impatiently.

“Got somewhere to be, Jung?” Doyoung asked, eyebrow raised quizzically. Jaehyun froze, face growing stony as he lifted his gaze to match Doyoung’s glare.

He raised his chin defiantly. “And what if I do?”

Ah, typical. The first time they speak in weeks and they’re already arguing. Doyoung shouldn’t have expected any less. He was convinced that all those days, all those library visits, all of the compliments – all of it was nothing but a fever dream. Wishful thinking, even, although Doyoung didn’t know what it was he wished for.

***

Renjun did not know where any of his friends were.

Jisung and Chenle had disappeared hours ago in search of Zonko’s Joke Shop – if they had managed to successfully find the shop despite their poor senses of direction, then they were probably still there. Chenle had even written a list and claimed he would not be leaving until he had ticked off every last item. Said list had taken up an entire scroll of parchment, so Renjun wouldn’t be surprised if Jisung had dozed off in some random corner until his best friend had fulfilled all of his childish desires.

Dejun had taken him to meet up with their other dormmate Kunhang, but unfortunately for him, Renjun had been subjected to almost an hour inside Spintwitches Sporting Needs before he grew incredibly bored and excused himself to go for a long, long walk.

After that, he had spent a little while in the Three Broomsticks with Donghyuck and Jaemin until they left with the excuse of some plan that made little sense to Renjun, who had no interest in delving any further. If anything, he was glad to see the glum look on Jaemin’s face crack for even a second, and if some ambiguous plan was enough to do so, then Renjun didn’t care to know any more.

Now, Renjun aimlessly wandered the streets of Hogsmeade. It had been pretty busy during the day, but now that dinner was in their sights, most of the students had disappeared back to the castle. Renjun pondered the idea for a moment but decided that there would be little point if he was only going to end up eating alone. Whilst he was someone who enjoyed their own company, there was something about enjoying a meal by himself that was actually a little depressing and not actually very enjoyable.

Out of the corner of his eye, Renjun caught sight of an unexpected duo leaving Tomes and Scrolls. Yukhei Wong and Jungwoo Kim stumbled out of the shop, both of them carrying rather tall stacks of books wrapped in brown paper. Renjun raised a surprised eyebrow, but didn’t comment on the unusuality of the situation, choosing to stand in the shadows a few feet away.

“Why was it so hard to find anything in there?” Jungwoo whined with a pout. Yukhei attempted to look at him, stretching his head around the books cradled in his arms.

“I don’t know, Woo,” Renjun thought he might have tried to shrug, a near impossible feat in his current predicament, “They were in alphabetical order.”

Jungwoo huffed. “Yeah, but not _my_ alphabetical order.”

_Hold up._

_What?_

“That still doesn’t make any sense to me,” Yukhei sighed. Renjun wholeheartedly agreed.

“Yes it does,” Jungwoo countered defensively. “P and Q should not be right beside one another. They’re basically the same letter. It’s confusing.”

Yukhei paused, his face curling in thought, and then he nodded. “Okay, yeah. I get that.”

Renjun was possibly experiencing a heart attack. His left arm had gone numb, and his brain felt all fuzzy. Maybe this was just a dream. A horribly realistic dream.

Was he hearing this conversation correctly, or did he have to make a visit to Madame Bae and get his ears checked?

“Well, I’m glad we finally managed to get these, no matter the hardships I endured in that shop,” Jungwoo smiled, and Yukhei returned it although his looked to be a little on the nervous side.

“I just hope all of this work pays off,” he admitted, and Renjun frowned.

As far as he knew, Yukhei was actually pretty smart. Like, so smart that some of Renjun’s teachers had shown him the Gryffindor’s essays as a good example of assigned tasks. Not in Transformation, though. No. Apparently that class was Yukhei’s one and only academic hubris. Maybe that was what he needed all of those books for? Renjun had never known Hogwarts’ library to be lacking, but perhaps Yukhei was intent on completing as much further reading as he could, and Jungwoo was just along for the ride.

Jungwoo’s smile softened. “I’m sure it will. He’d be an absolute idiot to reject you.”

Suddenly, Renjun felt an awful lot like he was intruding on a conversation he wasn’t meant to overhear. Shaking himself from whatever stupor he was in, Renjun straightened his coat and began to make his way back to the castle.

After all, there were worse things that eating alone.

***

Mark did not know how, but he, Johnny and Donghyuck were lost. Like, for real.

Somehow it had gone from sunset, to dusk, to night in the time since they left Honeydukes, and now the three of them were stumbling through a gathering of trees with their wands raised to light the path.

“I would just like you both to know that this is literally the worst surprise anyone has ever prepared for me,” Johnny announced, looking irritated and, quite frankly, homicidal. Mark had forgotten that his friend experienced hangriness to the highest degree.

In all fairness, this was not entirely Mark’s fault. If anything, it was entirely Donghyuck’s fault, but Mark was hardly going to tell him that. The Slytherin would probably break up with him on the spot and they hadn’t even had their first proper date (Mark was not convinced that trying to repair your friends’ relationship through meddling and espionage counted as such). Even so, Donghyuck had been the one to propose this ridiculous idea – Mark had just gone along with it because he was hopeless to deny anything Donghyuck asked of him.

“But you haven’t seen the best part yet!” Donghyuck complained, whining like a kicked puppy.

“At this rate I doubt I ever will,” Johnny deadpanned, making a defeated Mark wince.

He felt really bad that he had dragged Johnny away from the safety of the castle and the food it housed, but Mark reasoned with himself that it would all be worth it when he and Ten were back to best buddies. Or more, depending on how quickly Johnny could yank his head out of his arse.

Everyone had thought that Mark and Donghyuck were bad, and maybe they were, but they were closely rivalled by Johnny and Ten. The only difference was that whilst Ten was painfully aware of his own feelings, Johnny hadn’t even remotely considered the possibility that there was more to what he had with Ten than just friendship.

Mark just hoped that they would find the bloody shack sooner rather than later because he wasn’t completely confident in Johnny’s ability to keep his cool when faced with an unexpected situation. Maybe Mark should find a way to snag the older boy’s wand too. Just in case.

***

Jaehyun didn’t know what he had thought his evening plans would include, but a perfectly civil conversation with Doyoung was not on the list.

Then again, he hadn’t exactly penned in what had arguably turned into a hostage situation either. That was more to do with Ten than anyone else, but Jaehyun’s dramatics never failed him.

Doyoung had finally caved, dropping to the floor with a disgusted grimace that almost made Jaehyun smile. The only thing stopping the grin from breaking onto his face was sheer willpower and the pit in his stomach borne from guilt and sadness. Jaehyun felt like he was at fault for locking them in here (although he definitely blamed Jaemin for mysteriously disappearing), and he felt even worse upon noticing the forlorn looks on everyone’s faces – Ten’s in particular. This was supposed to have been a happy day for him, but Jaehyun hadn’t done enough to ensure that everything would succeed, and now none of them were sure how long they had until someone eventually found them.

It could be minutes, hours, days, maybe even-

“I, uh, I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened so dangerously he thought his eyeballs were going to pop out of their sockets. Very apt for Halloween, but not ideal in his current situation.

Ten and Jeno were engrossed in a quiet discussion – about what, he couldn’t hear – whilst Doyoung had shuffled along the floor so that he was sitting against the wall directly across from Jaehyun. He didn’t look small, he wasn’t curled in on himself, but he certainly had a different air about him. Less confident and sure of himself, more… nervous? Hesitant? Whatever it was, it unnerved Jaehyun because this wasn’t the Doyoung he knew ( _or maybe_ Jaehyun just felt uncomfortably endeared because his crush was voluntarily talking to him – apologising to him, even – for what may have been the first time ever).

“It’s fine,” Jaehyun shrugged, trying to remain casual without reverting to the cocky persona he reserved for the times Doyoung made him nervous. “It was my fault.”

Doyoung sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. “Even so, I shouldn’t have lost my temper. It wasn’t very fair of me.”

While Jaehyun mostly agreed, he also couldn’t fault Doyoung for getting upset. It was an unthinkable dilemma, getting locked in the Shrieking Shack on Halloween, all because of the poor progression of a series of increasingly unfortunate events. For a moment, Jaehyun wondered if he should invest in some sort of insurance as collateral for all the problems he either caused or ended up playing a role in.

“Nah, don’t eat yourself up over it,” Jaehyun advised gently, eyes fixed on the line of Doyoung’s throat. “If I didn’t have such impressive self-control, I would’ve probably punched something.”

That drew an amused snort out of Doyoung, which succeeded in surprising both of them. It was the closest Jaehyun had ever got to making Doyoung laugh, what with the Ravenclaw generally electing to scoff and turn up his nose at the mere sound of Jaehyun’s voice.

“I _did_ feel like punching something, but that would be setting a bad example,” Doyoung confessed, his eyes softening as they landed on Jeno. Jaehyun took the moment to study Doyoung’s face, drinking in as much as he could while he had the chance.

He had always thought that Doyoung was handsome, even when they argued, even when the Ravenclaw had pushed him to the floor and landed them in detention.

Now though, Jaehyun thought that Doyoung was sort of beautiful. His usual frown had smoothed into nonexistence and his pink mouth curled softly at the edges. Jaehyun kind of wanted to kiss him.

“You really care about that kid, don’t you,” Jaehyun said, not really asking because he already knew what Doyoung’s answer would be.

“Hm,” the older boy hummed anyway, his eyes returning to Jaehyun. “Ever since I found him lost in the dungeons back when he was a first year it’s kind of become my responsibility – to make sure he’s safe.”

Jaehyun smiled, a small, discreet thing. Doyoung was nowhere near as cold and heartless as he let most people believe. Even if the Gryffindor had known that for a while, it was nice to be proven right. If only he could stop the rush of jealousy every time he saw Doyoung with Jeno. What a feat that would be.

For a moment, neither of them said anything, the silence only broken by the soft murmuring coming from where Jeno and Ten were still talking.

“By the way,” Jaehyun began, not wanting their own conversation to end so soon. To his surprise, he was actually enjoying himself, even if Doyoung wished he were anywhere else. “What happened to your wand?”

Doyoung’s face curled up into a scowl. “Kun’s monster of a pet chewed it up.”

“Monster?” Jaehyun frowned. He was almost fully certain that the succinct list of approved pets was fairly minimal and did not include monsters of any description. “I thought he had a cat?”

“Exactly,” Doyoung huffed, glaring at the wall beside Jaehyun’s head.

In that instant, Jaehyun told himself to never, ever get a cat (if he also decided that liking Doyoung wasn’t actually all that bad, well, then no one had to know).

***

Johnny did not know why Donghyuck and Mark had led him to the Shrieking Shack, but it didn’t take him long to figure out that yet another part of their surprise had not gone to plan.

The trio had finally made it out of the woods, only for Johnny to deflate upon recognising the dilapidated building sitting a few metres away. That could only mean that whatever the younger boys had planned for him did not entail food of any description.

“Where’s Jaemin?” Donghyuck asked no one in particular, squinting into the dark in search of his friend.

First and foremost, why was Jaemin a part of this surprise? Johnny hadn’t really interacted with the younger Slytherin off of the quidditch pitch, so he couldn’t say that they were more than acquaintances. Secondly, _what the fuck?_

“Could someone please explain to me what the hell is happening?” Johnny asked helplessly, trying to soften the angry edge to his voice with a strained smile.

It didn’t work, because both Donghyuck and Mark flinched at his question, exchanging a slightly panicked look that held something Johnny couldn’t quite understand. God, they’d been together not even a day and already they could do that weird, telepathic conversation thing. The only acceptable non-couple that were allowed such a skill was himself and-

…

Oh.

_Oh._

Oh no.

Now was not the time for this.

Now was not the time for sudden revelations and its subsequent self-loathing.

Now was not the time for Johnny to realise what an idiot he had been.

Oh no, indeed.

“Um, Johnny? Are you okay?”

Johnny’s vision suddenly cleared, revealing Mark whose brow was deeply furrowed with something akin to concerned. It was only then that Johnny realised he had completely zoned out of the conversation and had no idea what had been said in the past minute.

“Huh?” he asked dazedly.

Donghyuck snorted. “I asked if you were up for a little tour of the Shrieking Shack,” the younger boy giggled, evidently amused by Johnny’s lack of awareness (something he possessed in every sense of the word, it seemed).

Still feeling somewhat stunned, Johnny just nodded. “Sure,” he said, his brain feeling decidedly off-kilter inside his skull.

Without any hesitation, he stalked towards the door leading into the Shrieking Shack and pushed it open with enough force for it to bounce against the residing wall with a deafening thump.

He had not prepared himself for the scene in front of him.

“Is this it?” he asked Mark incredulously, his head growing clearer with each drawn out second. “Because… colour me surprised.”

It was amusing yet startingly odd to Johnny, how unexpected this really was.

Four shocked faces stared up at him, mouths agape and bodies frozen. Jaehyun and Doyoung were sitting across from one another, their surprise scribbled across their faces for all the world to see. Across the room, a young Hufflepuff Johnny vaguely recognised looked up at him with something akin to awe swimming in his eyes. That just left…

Ten wasn’t looking at his face anymore, his gaze fixed somewhere near Johnny’s feet instead with faux interest. Johnny only knew that because Ten had told him he hated this particular pair shoes on multiple occasions.

“How did you do that?” Doyoung asked, blinking up at Johnny in wonder.

Johnny frowned. “Do what?”

“Get in,” Jaehyun urged, a similar look on his face. When did he and Doyoung get close enough to finish each other’s thoughts?

Johnny’s frown deepened. “I opened the door?”

“Like with magic?” the Hufflepuff piped up (Jeno! That was his name). He looked so small where he had curled himself up beside Ten, so young.

“With my hand,” Johnny explained in amazement. What was so confusing about this? Had none of them ever seen or used a door before?

“Shit!” Jaehyun suddenly exclaimed, realisation taking over his features.

Doyoung turned to face him questioningly. “What?”

“You have to pull it open!” Jaehyun laughed, a high-pitched, disbelieving - borderline maniacal - sound. “We were _pushing_ it the whole time.”

The entire room slumped against the nearest wall, defeat melting their bodies with its vicious, fiery flames. Johnny would have been amused if he wasn’t so confused.

“Hold on a second, did you all honestly think that you’d locked yourselves in?”

Johnny had almost forgotten that Donghyuck was there, but he was quick to remind everyone of his presence. He cackled loudly when all four boys nodded their heads miserably, their cheeks flushed red with humiliation.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Johnny urged, ignoring Donghyuck’s laughter and Mark, who only watched on in barely concealed astonishment. “You’re not being held captive.”

“Johnny, I don’t think I’ve ever loved you more than I do now,” Jaehyun announced dramatically as he got to his feet, and in a split second, he had his arms wrapped around the older boy’s neck.

“I don’t know if that says more about you or our friendship,” Johnny muttered, but he accepted Jaehyun’s hug with a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

“Probably both,” Jaehyun snorted, pulling away from the hug with a grateful grin. Johnny gave his friend’s shoulder a comforting squeeze before moving to the side, allowing both Doyoung and Jeno to pile out after him.

“Thank you!” the younger boy exclaimed, his mouth stretched into the brightest smile Johnny had ever seen (Donghyuck could never know). Doyoung also shot him a smile, but it was far more subdued, hovering on the border between grateful and pained.

The last to leave the building was Ten. Johnny’s heart dropped as he watched his best friend’s (?) shoulder’s droop, his posture deflating until he looked almost half his usual height.

Johnny didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know what to think. It felt like an eternity had passed since he’d last spoken to Ten, and the ease that usually came with their friendship was nowhere to be found. The air between them grew uncomfortable and stilted, neither of them saying a word. Johnny briefly noticed that the others had walked on a little, leaving him alone with Ten, but he couldn’t decide whether he was thankful or desperate to be rescued.

Ten hadn’t looked him in the eye once since Johnny had opened that door, and now the Gryffindor was forced to silently beg the younger boy to just say something. Anything. Johnny couldn’t, because his throat was dry and his tongue felt like sandpaper, rough and impossible to move.

In the end, Ten didn’t say anything either. He bit his bottom lip until it looked like it was on the verge of bleeding, and he scuffed his shoes against the grass, but he didn’t make a single move to initiate any form of contact with Johnny. He _did_ let out a tired sigh though, so loud it made Johnny’s bones shudder and his heart ache painfully in his chest. Dark shadows rested on the skin under Ten’s eyes and his raw lips looked a little dry, but Johnny loved him all the same.

That was what he had realised. That was his _oh shit_ moment.

Johnny not only loved Ten, but he was in love with him.

Everything made so much sense now. All the teasing from their friends. All the times they’d been called lovebirds or compared to an old married couple. All of the gentle touches and affectionate glances. To Johnny, it felt like getting an essay back, only to find red ink circling a major mistake.

How, in all the years he and Ten were friends, had he missed it? The summers they spent apart were filled with a sense of mourning Johnny had always attributed to merely missing his friends – all of them. And yet, thinking back on it, Johnny could only ever remember missing Ten; wanting to see Ten; wanting to talk to him face-to-face rather than through infrequent letters. It was appalling, really, how long it had taken him to realise that Ten was always at the forefront of his mind.

The real issue now was that Johnny had no idea how Ten felt about all of this. He wasn’t sure he wanted to let himself think about that just yet. He didn’t want to entertain the possibility that Ten didn’t feel the same way.

With each passing moment, both of them standing silently in front of one another, Johnny felt his stomach begin to sink. How had he let this happen? How had he let things spiral so far out of control? How had he let Ten get away that night? How had he allowed Ten to _stay_ away?

Johnny was a coward.

He was a coward then, and he was a coward now.

He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything at all. He didn’t say anything as he watched Ten hover in front of him, like he was waiting expectantly for Johnny to speak. He didn’t say anything when Jaehyun’s laughter boomed from a few feet away, disrupting the tentative fragility of the moment. He didn’t say anything when Ten sighed again. He didn’t say anything when Ten pushed passed him, their arms barely brushing, like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings.

Johnny was a coward, and once more, he let Ten go.

***

Jaemin did not know why, but he was alone.

Well actually, he _did_ know, but he didn’t want to admit to himself that his current loneliness was his own fault. He should never have left the Shrieking Shack, but he was scared and selfish, so now he walked the empty streets of Hogsmeade with nothing but a pile of useless wands for company. Really, it would have made more sense for Donghyuck just to take them, or even Jaehyun to smuggle them himself for that matter.

Donghyuck had severely overestimated Jaemin’s ability to act as a solitary creature, and now they were both paying for it. He had checked almost every shop that had yet to close, and not a familiar face was to be found. By this time, Donghyuck and Mark were surely enacting the final stage of their plan, Jisung and Chenle had probably grown bored of Zonko’s, and knowing Renjun, the Ravenclaw had most likely given up earlier on in the day and headed back to the castle in time for dinner.

Jaemin briefly contemplated getting over his fears, turning back around and returning to his post at the Shrieking Shack. That thought was quickly swept under the rug when the sound of something scuttling along the ground caught his attention, forcing an ungodly squeal out of the poor Slytherin who quickly began hightailing it back to Hogwarts.

**_a few days later_ **

Taeyong’s head felt fuzzy and his limbs seemed to drag behind him as he wandered the halls of the castle. His body felt all warm from the Firewhiskey he and Sicheng had ended up sharing, but his stomach was like a cold, empty cave, and Taeyong knew that the hangover would hit harder if he didn’t fill it with something sooner rather than later.

Head Boy privileges extended to a wavered curfew, although Taeyong didn’t take advantage of it very often. He was nothing if not a perfect, rule-abiding example for other students.

Speaking of other students, Taeyong vaguely remembered the drama in the library earlier that day. He wondered if Jaemin had ever found his friend, and briefly reminded himself to ask about Napoleon in the morning.

But first, food.

The walk to the kitchens was the shortest distance from any of the four common rooms, yet somehow it felt like the longest walk of Taeyong’s life. Maybe someone had hexed his shoes to make him walk at half his usual pace, because at this rate he wouldn’t make it to the kitchens before sunrise.

Then, something stopped him in his abnormally sluggish tracks. Taeyong halted beside a suit of armour that seemed to be making a rather strange yet distantly familiar noise. Where had he heard that before? He racked his alcohol addled brain, staring daggers at the armour as though it had offended him with its mere presence as he tried to remember.

It was still making that sound, a mixture between a low grumble and a shrill croak. Why was it so damn familiar?

Taeyong’s stomach suddenly stood to attention, letting out a quiet growl of hunger. He hesitated between investigating the armour or heading to get food, but another gurgle of his abdomen was enough to make him decide on the latter. Hogwarts was a magical castle, after all. Strange things happened all the time, and this would hardly be the strangest.

With a shrug, the Head Boy turned on his heel and shuffled down the corridor, mouth already watering at the thought of the food awaiting him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, i hope you all had a lovely time over christmas and new year! 
> 
> this chapter ended up being one of the longest yet for this fic, and i’d love to know what you think! there were so many povs in this chapter, but hopefully everything makes sense and doesn't read too clumsily :)
> 
> it’s probably fairly obvious what the next chapter will be about, which i’ll try to get up within the next few weeks (given that uni work doesn’t pile up too much). 
> 
> as always, thank you so much for reading <3


	10. planning to fail

Donghyuck was huddled in a corner of the library, books open and quill at the ready as he waited for Renjun to arrive and help him with his Transfiguration essay, when Jisung rounded the corner and dropped into the seat across from him.

“I have an idea,” the younger Slytherin whisper-shouted, without so much as a hello.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Donghyuck muttered under his breath, lifting his head from his textbook to shoot Jisung an unimpressed stare. 

Jisung winced apologetically. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“You forgot to say hi?”

“Yeah, it happens sometimes.”

How Jisung still had all of his limbs and head attached  _ and  _ intact was one of life’s greatest mysteries. 

“And yet, you managed to have an idea of your own,” Donghyuck sighed, ignoring the glaring girl sitting a few seats down, clutching her quill in a furious, white-knuckled grip. 

“It’s a good one, I swear,” Jisung promised, a little louder than was probably acceptable in their current setting. As with most things, Jisung had the right amount of enthusiasm but unfortunately he had yet to master the art of library-volume whispering. 

“Ah, yes,” Donghyuck snorted sardonically, “because you’re renowned for your intellectual genius and ground-breaking theories.”

Jisung merely blinked at him, eyes narrowed and mouth curled in confusion. Surely, at least one book in this godforsaken library held the secrets to wit and cleverness, and Donghyuck could only pray that it would come flying down from its shelf and hit Jisung on the head. Maybe that would knock some sense into him. Donghyuck’s wistful thinking only lasted a moment under Jisung’s innocently bewildered gaze before his shoulders slumped in defeat. Deciding that not much work would get done before Renjun arrived, Donghyuck set down his quill. 

“Alright, do tell.”

Jisung seemed to perk up at Donghyuck’s reluctant encouragement, slamming his bag on the table with enough force to shake it. The girl let out an exaggeratedly drawn sigh, one that teetered on the border of becoming a snakelike hiss. Donghyuck would be lying if he said he wasn’t mildly terrified, but Jisung didn’t pay her any mind, too focused on rattling through his belongings until he extracted a crumpled piece of parchment, creased and ink stained.

“I know how to make Jaemin happy again,” he proudly announced, only to get shushed by the librarian who had seemingly materialised out of nowhere (Donghyuck wondered if the shrivelled up fossil was in cahoots with the angry girl). Jisung gave the elderly woman a sheepish look, one she simply sniffed at before disappearing between the shelves once more. 

Donghyuck raised his eyebrows, surprised. He hadn’t really considered that anyone but their immediate friend group had taken notice of Jaemin’s heartbroken demeanour; all sad, tired eyes, drooping lips and hunched shoulders. The affectionate and gleeful Jaemin Donghyuck knew now seemed like nothing more than a watery memory viewed through the veil of a pensieve. Jaemin’s full-mouthed grin had twisted, growing sour like a rotting lemon, releasing a taste that had become far more pungent than Donghyuck anticipated. 

Perhaps Jisung wasn’t as oblivious as he made himself out to be.

“Come on, Jaemin’s my cousin,” Jisung pointed out, distractedly smoothing out the parchment. “You don’t seriously think that you’re the only one who’s noticed how down he’s been recently?” 

“I suppose not,” Donghyuck shrugged, suddenly hit with the thought that Jisung was growing up a little faster than he would have liked. “Okay then. What’ve you got?”

***

Doyoung decided that this was it. He was in the midst of a mid-life crisis at the age of seventeen. He didn’t know how or why it had happened, just that it had and he was now left to deal with its consequences. 

The paper in front of him was blank and smooth, like flawless, unblemished skin, and Doyoung was hesitant to put his quill to it and mar its perfection with thick, tattoo-black lines. The feather of his quill tickled the skin between his thumb and forefinger, pleasant and horrible all at once, and a thick globule of ink threatened to drip from the sharp tip. 

A love letter. That’s what this was. Or, what it would be. How Doyoung could turn an empty sheet of parchment into a piece of literature worth studying, he had no idea, thus posing one of many problems his crisis had created. The first had been the not at all sudden yet still surprising realisation that his seemingly harmless attraction to Jaehyun had transformed into something sickeningly sweet and saccharine. One non-confrontational conversation and Doyoung found himself staring blankly at his textbook as memories of Jaehyun’s dimpled smile flashed in his mind like the keycards he used to study. Really, the events of Halloween should've been the end of it, should've been enough to dissuade Doyoung from yearning for more, but they hadn’t. If anything, those moments on the floor of the Shrieking Shack with Jaehyun at his side had changed something, pressed a button or twisted a key, unlocking a flurry of emotions Doyoung was not at all prepared to deal with. 

It came as a shock at first, the twist in his heart the moment Johnny opened the door and freed them from their own stupidity. The tentative version of normalcy existing between Doyoung and Jaehyun shattered, making way for something far, far worse; hope. Doyoung hated how quickly he let himself hope for something more, a dangerous optimism chipping away at the layer of stone coating his heart. It left him wondering why he had forced himself to hate Jaehyun, why he had constructed such a barrier, why he had made himself so miserable in the process. Doyoung knew he was a guarded person, careful with his emotions and even carefuller with who he chose to show them to. He had been less careful with Jaehyun. From the very start - from the moment their eyes locked at that Quidditch match - Jaehyun had been able to see every raw, exposed part of Doyoung, right down to the ugliest demons he usually kept hidden. Jaehyun knew every single one of Doyoung’s weaknesses, even if he didn’t realise it yet. He knew what made Doyoung’s blood boil, just as he knew how to make Doyoung’s heart flutter in his chest, like the beating of a butterfly’s wings. Perhaps it was all subconscious knowledge, but Jaehyun had a hold over Doyoung that no one else ever had, an iron grip he just couldn't shake. 

Doyoung stared at the sheet of paper until his eyes blurred, stinging and dry. He had never truly hated Jaehyun, not even the day he landed them in detention. No, what Doyoung had hated was the fact that Jaehyun made him feel unfamiliar things, overwhelming and all at once. He already had too much to prove, and his worthiness to date the most popular boy in school was not something he wanted to add to the list. It looked rather pathetic in comparison to Doyoung’s worries about being good enough as a wizard - it felt silly to worry about his value as a potential boyfriend too. 

_ Boyfriend _ . The word sent a shiver down Doyoung’s spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Did he want to be Jaehyun’s boyfriend? A week ago, Doyoung’s answer would have been no, absolutely not. The idea was nothing more than a distant fantasy Doyoung would never allow himself to entertain, because he didn’t let himself wish for things he believed he did not deserve. 

But somehow, Doyoung wasn’t the same person he was seven days ago. A switch had flicked within him, leaving him glowing from the inside out. His friends had noticed something was different, but they had yet to say anything about it. Doyoung was aware that he had lost his sharp edge, the corners of his personality softening to something smoother and gentler; a caress against a lover's face. He stopped scowling at younger students so often (not completely; he still had to perform his prefect duties, after all). He didn’t argue when Taeyong told him to take a break and eat a full meal for once in his life, much to his friend’s delight. Doyoung had a long way to go before he became someone who could be liked by more than a handful of close friends, but for once, he didn't feel the need to work so hard. 

It wasn’t that Doyoung wanted to change himself for Jaehyun. That would be an impossible feat, and one that would only leave Doyoung unhappy and resentful. Rather, Doyoung wanted to better himself. He wanted to smoothen the roughest of his edges, shape himself into the person he wanted to be rather than the person he thought Jaehyun desired. 

Jaehyun was the catalyst behind Doyoung’s epiphany, but the harder the Ravenclaw thought about it, the more he realised that this surpassed the need for romance or a boyfriend. The core of this need for self-improvement was rooted within Doyoung, and Doyoung alone. Even if Jaehyun decided that he didn't want him, Doyoung would have himself to fall back on, a stronger and surer version of the person he was now. 

The longer Doyoung stared at the vacant love letter, the more certain he grew. He knew what it was that he wanted to say, he just didn’t know what words to choose to convey his thoughts and feelings. Then, there was also the issue of his anonymity. A breakable fragility took hold of Doyoung’s heart as he imagined handing over his letter, only for Jaehyun to scoff and throw it back in his face. Jaehyun would never be so cruel, Doyoung knew that, yet he couldn't help but consider the result of handing over a letter, addressed from him. Would Jaehyun laugh at him, thinking that the letter was nothing more than a prank? Or would Jaehyun understand just how deeply Doyoung’s emotions cut and run for the hills? Perhaps worst of all was the thought of Jaehyun being kind, folding up the letter with a comforting word of thanks followed by a gentle rejection. 

The quill scratched against the parchment as Doyoung penned his letter, words flowing from his fingertips with an ease he could never have imagined. It was like his heart had split itself in half, leaving Doyoung’s thoughts to spill out onto the page in front of him with reckless abandon. Each sentence divulged another fear, another feeling, another phantom of a future Doyoung so desperately longed for. The words barely covered half of the page, but Doyoung felt that it was enough. Grandeur gestures were not to his taste, and he doubted that Jaehyun’s first concern would be to do with the length of the letter. 

With shaking hands, Doyoung lifted the paper to his face and blew gently against the wet ink. A few of the letters had smudged in his haste to write them down, but the imperfection made everything seem more real. This was an honest, first draft of Doyoung’s feelings, raw and unfiltered. Even if it wasn’t what he had initially wanted, this letter felt realer than anything Doyoung could have ever planned. 

Once the ink dried, Doyoung folded the paper into a neat rectangle and slid it into an envelope, sealed with hot wax and a stamp. The heart engraved in the red wax looked like it was bleeding, and Doyoung could only hope that it was not foreshadowing his future. 

***

Johnny could smell the faint scent of food wafting warmly through the walls of the castle, but he had never felt less inclined to follow it, his stomach a cold, empty cavern that required nothing and asked for even less. The distant sound of chatter filled his ears, only to be drowned out by the echoing slap of his boots against stone as he descended the stairs from Gryffindor tower. He clutched his broom tightly in his hand, using the other to pull the hood of his jumper over the mess of hair sitting atop his head. The strands were still damp from his recent shower, and would surely freeze in the cool November air, but Johnny couldn't find it in himself to care. 

The last week had passed by in a blur of guilt and confusion, with some longing and pain sprinkled in for flavour. In fact, Johnny was almost certain that he had never truly experienced any form of heartbreak until now. Everything hurt, from his head to his heart to the marrow of his bones. A deep set ache had lodged itself in between his ribs before spreading through every vein and blood vessel until Johnny felt like curling his body into a ball and blocking out the rest of the world. He could barely remember a single thing he had been taught in any of his classes, miniscule snippets of lessons zooming by, leaving no time for Johnny to ponder their meaning because, the next thing he knew, it was gone, already replaced by a brand new one, the context of which was all but a mystery to him. 

There was only one thing that Johnny was sure of, and that was his love for Ten. Something oddly melancholic twisted in his gut every time he saw the younger boy from across the Great Hall or in the corridors of the castle. Each sighting reminded him of the memories from his lessons; brief glimpses Johnny couldn't chase after, no matter how badly he wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to chase after Ten. Johnny would chase him to the very ends of the earth if that’s what it took to have Ten look at him again, just once, just for even a second. It was selfish, but Johnny missed being the centre of Ten’s attention. He missed the secretive glances and the gentle touches and the comforting warmth of his best friend’s presence - because that’s what they were, before all else. Best friends. But that message seemed to have gotten lost somewhere along the way. Maybe it had been lost for years, and Johnny was only now noticing. There were many things Johnny had missed, he realised, but now it was far too late to backtrack. He could only catch up and hope that it was enough.

The winter chill bit at his skin as Johnny entered the castle grounds, clinging to the damp strands of hair hanging across his forehead. The sky had turned a deep shade of indigo hours ago, but even that couldn't stop him from grabbing his broom with the plan of an early evening practice. Really, Johnny just needed to clear his head for a while and Quidditch was the one way he could forget everything else. 

Most students would find the dark and empty Quidditch pitch terrifying, the odds of something staying hidden in the shadows too high for them to endure a few minutes alone. Johnny, on the other hand, did not mind the quiet. To him, there was a serenity to be found in loneliness. Living in a castle filled with hundreds of students, creatures and talking paintings alike left very few places untouched by the hum of laughter that seemed to follow Johnny wherever he went. Here, though, in the silent darkness of the Quidditch pitch, he could feel a wave of peace wash over him, calm and tranquil. If he wanted to, Johnny could easily use his wand to magic up some light, but he found that that would disturb the reverence of the moment. If Johnny were at all religious, this would be some sort of holy experience meant only for self-reflection and meditation.

In the Gryffindor locker room, he found the chest of practice balls locked safely away beneath a bench. Johnny pulled them out and eyed the Quaffle thoughtfully for a moment before deciding against it. He just wanted to fly tonight. 

Upon re-entering the pitch, Johnny was surprised to find that he wasn’t alone.

“Nakamoto?”

Yuta’s head whipped towards him, looking just as taken aback as Johnny felt. 

“Oh, I didn’t know anyone else was here,” the Slytherin captain muttered, his voice uncharacteristically solemn. His shoulders drooped sadly and the skin between his eyebrows creased with a frown. All in all, Johnny had never seen Yuta look so forlorn. He couldn't even recall the last time he had seen the other boy without so much as a hint of a smile curling his lips, even after losing a game.

It took a moment, but once Johnny recognised the look in Yuta’s eyes he couldn’t unsee it. Yuta was heartbroken, just like he was. 

“Yeah, I come here when I need a little time alone,” Johnny explained, glancing at the empty stands before sending Yuta a small smile. “It’s strangely peaceful.”

Yuta nodded in agreement. The moon shone down on them, its light silvery as the vision of a ghost, casting shadows that were barely visible against the dark, rich green grass. 

“Do you- do you want me to go?” he asked after a moment, his mouth twisting guiltily. 

Johnny was quick to shake his head. As much time as he spent on the Quidditch pitch, he didn’t actually own it. 

“No, not at all. It might be better for the both of us if we aren't left to stew in our own thoughts.”

Yuta laughed humourlessly. “Yeah, maybe.”

Dropping onto the damp grass, Johnny breathed a tired sigh, bone-deep and exhausted. He didn't have to say anything for Yuta to join him, the Slytherin already sitting beside Johnny before he could even consider asking.

“Rough week?” 

Johnny nodded, staring off into the empty stands. “Something like that.”

Neither of them spoke for a while, sitting on the grass as they let the droplets of rain clinging to the blades seep through their clothes, icy water stinging their skin. It wasn’t a suffocating silence but it was a loud one, full of abandoned thoughts and words left unsaid. Yuta had always been a good friend to Johnny, even if they were never much closer than classmates and rivals on the Quidditch pitch. He was easy to talk to and instantly knew what to say to change the mood from sour to sweet in mere seconds, but now his presence alone was just as comforting as any joke could be.

Johnny had thought that he wanted to be alone, but now he knew that he wanted to be understood instead. Mark had Donghyuck and a blossoming relationship, and Jaehyun was too good at masking his emotions, the need to be perfect taking precedence over his own heartaches. Ten wasn’t a viable option anymore because one look at his face and Johnny would crack, everything he’d kept bottled up for days, months,  _ years  _ spilling out in a wave of tears and jumbled confessions. 

“Do you ever wish you could take something back as soon as you say it?” Yuta suddenly asked, his voice a hushed whisper. He didn’t look at Johnny, eyes fixed on the chipped nail polish coating his thumb.

“All the time,” Johnny answered honestly. Harsh words, Ten’s face falling, the feeling of his heart breaking - the moment Johnny had been stupid enough to open his mouth, he regretted it. At the time, Johnny thought they were debating how Jaehyun should handle his feelings for Doyoung, but it was crystal clear to him now that it was something much closer. How could he have said it? 

_ What’s the point in waiting for someone? Someone who’ll never want you back? _

Johnny wished he had never spoken. 

“It’s hard, isn’t it? Trying to convince yourself that you’re okay,” he added, mindlessly grabbing small fistfuls of grass and tugging them from the ground with a quiet  _ snap _ .

Yuta exhaled shakily, like he was trying to hold back tears. “Yeah, it really is.”

Merlin, this really wasn’t the evening Johnny had planned for himself. In anything, he had expected it would be himself choking on tears, lower lip wobbling as they threatened to spill down his face in torrent streams. Acting as some pseudo-counsellor for a friend hadn’t been in the cards, but when Johnny really considered it, he supposed talking to Yuta would probably take his mind off things for a little while - things, in this case, being Ten. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” The question came out somewhat reluctantly, but still sincere. Johnny was perhaps the last person to come to about feelings of a more serious nature, but he’d try his hardest to offer Yuta some advice, and if not, at least an ear to listen. 

“No, not particularly,” Yuta replied, inspecting the black paint coating his nails. It looked cool, Johnny thought, like Yuta had dipped his fingertips in the night sky. 

“Me neither,” the Gryffindor said, huffing a cheerless snort. 

A cool breeze blew across the pitch, nicking the edge of Johnny’s hood and threatening to force his damp hair to face its chill. Yuta’s own hair was an unusual shade of black, so black it looked purple in some lights, like the oil-slicked feathers of a crow.

“We probably should, though,” he breathed, turning to face Johnny with a knowing look, like he could read the Gryffindor’s face as though it were the pages of a textbook.

“Probably,” Johnny agreed, throwing a handful of broken grass into the wind. “Do you want to start, or shall I?”

“Ah, ever the gentlemen,” Yuta joked, the hint of a smile glinting dully in his eyes. “It’s fine, I’ll go first.”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

An owl hooted somewhere in the distance, a low, haunting sound that almost disturbed the fragility of the moment. Yuta ignored it though, picking at his nails until the paint chipped off in black flakes. 

“It’s not my best kept secret, that I have a crush on Sicheng,” he admitted, a hushed whisper so low Johnny wouldn’t have caught hadn't he been listening. “You know, I know, everyone in the fucking school knows. Everyone except from Sicheng. I guess because I rarely take anything seriously, he just assumes every confession is a joke, any time I ask him on a date is just a prank that only I’m in on.” He paused, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip. “It’s my own fault, really, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less when he rejects me. He can be so flippant about it too, like his words won’t have any effect on me at all. I just…”

“You just want him to listen to you,” Johnny finished, and even though this was supposed to be Yuta’s story, his heart hurt, every syllable hitting that bit closer to home. Not necessarily his home, but Ten’s. It was like hearing his best friend’s side of the story for the first time, and Johnny ached for him.

“Yeah,” Yuta managed to say with a sniff, rubbing a pale hand across the tears pooling in his eyes. “There’s a difference between someone only hearing you, and them actually listening. It would hurt a lot less if Sicheng realised that.”

“A lot of things would hurt less if realisations were made sooner.”

The owl hooted again, only this time it sounded much more like a pained screech. It echoed in the relative silence, ringing like blood rushing to Johnny’s ears. His head hurt as he tried to keep his thoughts at bay, but the urge to leave and find Ten thrummed through his veins like a drug. 

“So, what’s your predicament?” 

Johnny almost laughed at Yuta’s question. Predicament was an understatement. 

“I’m in love with Ten,” was all that he said. The silence that followed was brief, but in that time Johnny went through just about every stage of grief, finally landing on acceptance as Yuta shot him a slightly incredulous look. 

“Don’t come at me for this John,” he started, sounding faintly defensive, “but I thought you guys were already dating. Have done for years. I’m pretty sure the entire castle would agree.”

Strangely, so did Johnny.

“That’s the thing; I think we might have been, and I just didn’t notice.”

***

“Absolutely not.”

“Aw, please Jun! Just this once,” Donghyuck begged, eyes round like a pleading puppy. “For Jaemin’s sake.”

“My answer is still no,” Renjun sniffed, taking a pointed sip of his pumpkin juice. 

“Even if I promise to do next week’s homework for you?”

Renjun shook his head. “Already done it.”

“Why do you have to be such a Ravenclaw?” Donghyuck whined, deflating in his seat like a popped balloon. “Can’t you break the rules, just this once?”

“How many times do I have to say it until it gets through your thick skull -  _ no _ .”

Donghyuck glared across the table, beef stew forgotten and on the verge of going inedibly cold. “You’re a terrible friend,” he sneered with narrowed eyes. “I hope you know that.”

Renjun, unphased by the whole thing, simply returned to shovelling lumpy mash into his mouth. “Guilt tripping doesn’t work on me.”

Picking up his fork again, Donghyuck turned to face Jisung, who looked like he would rather be anywhere else so long as it meant he could eat his dinner in peace. Even the owelry would be better than this. The older Slytherin was having none of that, however, choosing to involve Jisung in his childish quarrels as some sort of mediator despite the fact the fourth year barely knew how to handle arguments he himself was involved in. 

“See, I told you,” Donghyuck announced with conviction, jabbing the end of his fork in Renjun’s direction. “He’s a heartless bastard.”

Jisung didn’t really know what to say, nodding wordlessly in agreement whilst simultaneously sending Renjun an apologetic grimace, because he did not want to be on either of their bad sides. 

“Well, can you at least distract Jaemin for a while so he doesn’t notice that we’re gone?” Donghyuck pleaded, dropping his fork again. Jisung glanced wantonly at the older boy’s nearly full plate. His stomach growled hungrily despite being home to his own recently devoured meal, and Jisung silently contemplated the likelihood of losing a finger if he tried to sneak some of Donghyuck’s beef. It took approximately three seconds and a completely fabricated premonition entailing gratuitous violence for him to decide against the thought. 

“How long?” Renjun sighed, seeming to give in surprisingly quickly. Jisung had always thought that the Ravenclaw had stronger will than this, but then again, Donghyuck’s whining was enough to take down even the most seasoned of parents.

Donghyuck’s grin returned with a dangerous gleam, sharp like the edge of a knife. “Really, you’ll do it? Thank you so-”

“I haven’t said yes yet,” Renjun cut in, unimpressed. “I’m asking you how much time you need.”

Undeterred by his friend’s reluctance, Donghyuck shuffled excitedly in his seat, whilst Jisung stared forlornly at his untouched food. Maybe, just maybe, he could risk a fingertip for an extra scoop of potato.

“Like, thirty minutes tops,” Donghyuck answered decisively, pride shining in the depths of his honey eyes. 

Renjun sat back, a contemplative frown on his face as he considered Donghyuck’s plan. Well, technically it was Jisung’s plan, but he doubted that he’d be getting any of the credit should it work out. 

After what seemed like a small eternity, resignation took form on Renjun’s face in a deepened frown and a disappointed curl of his mouth.

“Alright, thirty minutes,” he acquiesced defeatedly. “But if you’re any longer I’m not sticking around.”

Donghyuck looked about five seconds away from leaping across the table and pulling Renjun into a bone crushing hug, letting out a gleeful shriek. The surrounding students, all of whom were attempting to enjoy their own meals, turned to face the trio with disgruntled sighs and reprimanding glares. Jisung sort of felt bad for the girl from the library.

“I take back everything I said about you being a bad friend,” Donghyuck chattered excitedly. “In fact, I’d say you’re the best.”

Renjun did not look overly enthused, not in the slightest. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he warned, a sly look shifting the glint in his eyes. “You’ve been awfully chipper lately,” he added suspiciously. “I haven’t seen you mope in at least a week.”

The smile on Donghyuck’s face turned slightly strained and, if Jisung really cared to look, he would've noticed the hint of panic too.

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed,” Donghyuck said, waving a dismissive hand as he suddenly removed himself from the bench in a tangle of limbs and robes. 

“Well this was a lovely meal, but I have some things to attend to before tonight's rendezvous,” he explained upon noticing his friends’ questioning looks. He turned to face the younger of the two, ignoring Renjun’s smirk. “Jisung Park, I shall see you later.”

And with that, Donghyuck all but bolted from the table and out of the Great Hall, like a fiendfyre spurted at his heels. 

“He thinks we don’t know, doesn't he?” Renjun asked once they were alone, glancing once in Donghyuck’s direction before shooting Jisung a knowing smile. Jisung had no idea what it was that he knew.

“Know what?” he asked, picking up Donghyuck’s plate and dumping the food onto his own.

Renjun only looked disappointed. 

“I’m beginning to think that I’m the only person with any brain cells around here,” he muttered.

Jisung would wholeheartedly agree. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this chapter, even if it was arguably one of the angstiest yet. again, i apologise for the wait but i have a pretty packed schedule at the moment, and on top of that, i forced myself to go through and edit all of the previous chapters which i will be uploading over the next few days - i won’t be changing the plot at all but hopefully most inconsistencies will have been fixed! 
> 
> i have also set up a [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/angel1c_angel) and [twitter account](https://twitter.com/angel1c_angel) for my writing, so if any of you are interested in keeping up with fic updates and watching me try to figure out how everything works, then please feel free to follow me!
> 
> thank you so much for your patience. until the next update, please let me know what you thought of this one! comments and kudos are always appreciated <3


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